


A Scent Remembered

by Rhiw



Category: Fables (Willingham) - All Media Types, Fables - Willingham, The Wolf Among Us
Genre: All kinds of fuckery with childhood fables, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bigby is a Wolf, Bigby likes, Bigby might be too stupid to realize he's in a relationship, Blue is a kinky motherfucker under all that GOOD, Blue is a mother hen, Blue plays that all up, Elevator Sex, Emotionally Constipated Bigby Wolf, Fluff and Angst, Game Spoilers, Horny Boy Blue, I love Grimble, I need to stop with the tags, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Possessive Behavior, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Rough Oral Sex, Secret Relationship, Self-Worth Issues, Shameless Smut, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sex, and still the reluctant hero, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiw/pseuds/Rhiw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only two scents had ever really appealed to Bigby Wolf, only two out of thousands and thousands that had ever suggested 'mate.'</p><p>There was Snow, whose sweet apple blossom  scent could stop him in his tracks and rob him of thought. It haunted him, drove him. It was the reason he was trying so damn hard to change now. It was all for Snow.</p><p>But then there was Blue, who despite his tender appearance was anything but a boy. Blue’s scent called just as strongly to the wolf.</p><p>So yeah.</p><p>Bigby was a bit confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wolf and His Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bigby's apartment had been cleaned.
> 
> Thoroughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed. Written after a third.
> 
> How is this pairing not a thing?
> 
> This chapter is roughly seven weeks before The Wolf Among Us game/comic takes place.

 

**February 4th, 1986**

Bigby’s apartment had been cleaned.

Thoroughly.

The wolf wrinkled his nose at the heavy scent of cleaning supplies. At least they seemed to be the kind with non-chlorine bleach, the ‘green’ kind. The AC wall unit’s fan had been turned on, with used dryer sheets taped to the front to try and filter out the worst of the city smells, but his apartment still smelled completely foreign – his scent irritating absent from his own home.

There was only one person who would break into his apartment (besides Colin) and clean it (definitely not Colin). Bigby rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette and made his way into his tiny kitchen to grab a beer. The muffled sounds of singing could be heard coming from the bathroom, where the culprit undoubtedly was, sure that he had hours more before Bigby would be returning from work.

Bigby shook his head as he leaned against the thin wall. Jesus Christ, even his fridge was shining. A note had been pinned on it with a magnet; it was written in blue – because of course it was – in an all too familiar wispy script.

Bigby rolled his eyes again, finishing the beer off in one gulp before reaching into the fridge for another one, purposely ignoring the stacked bins of Chinese. _‘Owe me’ my ass,_ he thought sourly. It wasn’t like he’d asked for a maid service. It wasn’t his fault that no one in the world (either back home or here) loved to hover like Boy Blue did. The shower shut off and moments later the bathroom door swung open.

As always, Blue was a contradiction. Tall and lithe – almost slender, delicate – and yet his frame was packed with muscle. His blond hair was short, parted at the side and wet enough for his bangs to lose their normal wave and fall over his eyes. His pale skin was flushed rosy from the shower, making his lips seem even pinker and Bigby let his eyes roam over the nearly naked form unabashedly.

While Blue may be forever stuck with the appearance of a teenager, he was anything but a youth. Boy Blue had been one of the last Fables to flee the Homeland, fighting the Adversary and his minions until the very end. His valor in battle had carried over to Fabletown, so much so that he was practically idolized. Most Fables would shit a brick out of horrified disbelief if they knew that he was standing in the Big Bad Wolf’s apartment in nothing but a towel.

Blue’s lips curved into a smile. “Why so sour looking, Big Bad? Don’tcha like the place?”

“No one asked you to come clean. I liked my shit where it was.”

The blond chuckled as he crossed the small space, eyeing the empty beer bottle before plucking the one from Bigby’s hand. “And which of those trash piles were you particularly attached to? I’m just asking so when its grows back I’ll know to leave it alone.”

“Blue–” Bigby growled, but Blue just danced out of his reach, taking a hearty swig of the stolen beer. The other Fable never approved of how much Bigby drank and smoke, but he rarely said anything about it. Blue understood that dulling his senses through alcohol and tobacco was the only way that the wolf could survive the overwhelming sights and sounds of New York.

Blue tossed the now empty bottle into the trash before sweeping the one on the counter to down to join it. “Stop being such a dick,” Blue’s nose wrinkled, “everything was so… _sticky._ You can’t possibly be that upset. You’re welcome by the way.”

“Like I said,” Bigby grumbled, “you weren’t invited.”

“Jesus, Bigby. You act like I broke something.” Blue said, annoyed. He crossed his arms, hip cocking to rest against the counter. “What crawled up your butt and died? Bad day at the office?”

“You could say that.” Crane was giving him hell. Well, so was Snow but…that was different. She was just frustrated, which was understandable working so close to Crane.

Snow White had been one of only three scents that had ever appealed to the wolf in Bigby. The first had been his mother, Winter Wolf. She’d smelled like the crispness that came before the first snow of the season. That and of love and safety and _mother._ He could still almost recall it, especially in the dreams he had of running through their forest with his siblings.

Snow had smelt like blood and sick that first time, of pain and terror, but underneath all of that had been a sweet apple blossom that had stopped him in his tracks. It had been why when Snow White (then a beaten prisoner in rags) had offered her bound hands to him, Bigby had snapped the shackles with his great maw instead of eating her. It was a scent that had haunted him. He’d had been told ever since he was a small pup that only his mate’s scent could have such a strong effect on him. 

It was one that he’d never forgotten and when they’d arrived in this world, Bigby was damned and determined to keep it near. That selfish wish was the origin of his ‘change of heart’ and if he was completely honest, nearly everything Bigby did after becoming sheriff was to gain some inch of her trust.

The problem was that Blue’s scent (a deep earthy thing, the smell of fresh dirt after a spring rain mixed with cinnamon and some sort of rich spice he’d never quite put a name to) appealed just as strongly to the wolf. It filled the apartment now, escaping in billows from the bathroom with the hot air and from Blue himself. He’d used Bigby’s shampoo and soap, coloring his scent with just enough of Bigby to make something inside the wolf rumble happily.

The blond opened the fridge and leaned down, pulling open the bottom plastic drawer to pull out one of those carbonated lemon-strawberry waters that Bigby hated but always kept stocked. Bigby let his head cock to the side, eyes locked on the smooth stretch of Blue’s back, the subtle dip of his hips, and the swell of his plump ass.

“Don’t think I can’t feel your eyes, pervert.” Blue grumbled as he shut the fridge door and leaned against. The cool air had pebbled his nipples and Bigby’s hands twitched by his side. Blue’s lips pulled into an amused smile, eyes bright with mischief. “See something you like, Big Bad?”

“Why do you keep coming here?” Bigby asked as he rested his palms on either side of Blue, leaning against the cheap formica counter. “What the hell do you want, Blue?”

The boy watched him around the can, tongue swirling across the cold aluminum, catching the small reservoir of water that had formed between the lip and the opening. “Why do you think, Bigby?”

“You have any idea what would happen if this got out? This…whatever the fuck this is?” He had no idea why he was pressing this – it wasn’t a new conversation by any means. Blue was a pillar of society in Fabletown, a man viewed with great respect and love.

He was a representation of something, something precious; a beacon of hope, of their strength against the Adversary, and of their survival. If any of the town busybodies got wind of their little trysts (like that piece of work, Mrs. Muffet. That woman could get information out to every Fable in New York faster than anything their so called government could) the town would probably implode – or keel over from shock.

They’d be after Bigby in a heartbeat for soiling their Blue.

Blue worked his arm beneath Bigby’s, sliding the can down the counter as he spread his legs until his bare feet were pressed against the wolf’s booted ones. His hands – still cool from the can – slid up the muscles of his forearms until they met the folded sleeves of his dress shirt. “Do you really think I care about that?”

“You should.”

“Bigby.” Blue sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his feet harder against Bigby’s own. “I’m a big boy, I promise. I can make my own decisions.”

“Not if they’re stupid ones. And trust me, Blue. I know stupid decisions.”

Blue’s hands squeezed him tightly. “Then I guess we can just be stupid together.”

 _Stubborn idiot,_ Bigby thought with a sigh, but he couldn’t deny the fondness that accompanied the thought. He brought his own hands up to cup the boy’s neck, thumbs rubbing the strong jaw. Blue leaned heavily into the contact, eyes fluttering shut as he angled his face up to meet Bigby. But the wolf only pressed a kiss to his forehead before stepping away.

“Go home.” He ignored the look of hurt confusion on the blond’s face before moving into his bedroom. It too had been cleaned, his sheets laundered and his laundry folded and hung in the tiny closet. Blue’s clothing – a pair of faded jeans and a bright blue and white shirt – was folded neatly atop it. He stripped off his jacket before toeing off his boots. He wasn’t surprised – only exasperated – when he turned to find Blue standing in the doorway with a heavy frown. “You heard me, kid. I’m tired. Go away.”

“No.”

“Blue…” Bigby growled, abandoning undoing his shirt in favor of rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He was really not in the mood for this. Why couldn’t Blue just see that he was trying to help him? The growl intensified when a slender form was suddenly in his lap. “Damn’t, kid.”

The towel was almost completely undone, hanging only to the edges of Blue’s hips. His cock was limp but the scent of arousal (and confusion) hung heavily in the air. “Why do you always have to make this so hard?”

“Why don’t you ever listen?” Bigby shot back, yet his hands still came up to steady Blue by the hips, his skin warm with life to the touch.

“Why would I want to?” Blue countered, arms curling around his neck. “I’m not ashamed to be with you, Big Bad.” Bigby looked away, unable to take the beseeching blues staring down at him, not with those words striking so close to what he felt. Small hands guided his face back. “…are you ashamed of being with me?”

“No, of course not.” Confused as hell, yeah, but never ashamed. Bigby had no idea what someone like Blue could be getting from this. Occasionally they caught coffee or shared a meal when they ran into each other out on the town, but more often than not they just fucked. And if they spent more time than Bigby liked to admit afterwards curled up together or sharing his armchair as they watched a movie on his grainy TV, that was neither here nor there.

It wasn’t a relationship by any stretch of means and Bigby had nothing – no money, status, or even much kindness – to give him. Yet Blue kept coming back. The wolf was pleased; there was no denying that. Even now his bestial side rumbled happily in his chest, content to have the delicious smell of _mate, possible mate,_ so close. It was – it was fucking confusing, is what it was. Because for first few hundred years before he’d met Blue, Bigby had been positive Snow was his mate.

Still kind of was.

And yet his cock was already hardening, straining against his zipper as if it could pass through and press against the warmth resting atop it. Blue watched him so earnestly, so honestly. For whatever reason, the blond wanted this to continue, wanted Bigby. And as pathetic as it sounded, there was so little kindness – so little _positive_  contact in his life that Bigby couldn’t bring himself to pull away. His hands splayed over Blue’s lower back, fingers digging into the flesh.

“I want this, Big Bad.” Blue said, voice low as he rolled his hips against Bigby’s sizable erection. “Been thinking about your knot all day long.”

Bigby groaned, giving in completely as he leaned forward to nip at Blue’s neck. The boy craned his head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat in a move that could only be deliberate and the wolf in Bigby roared at it. He sucked harshly at the soft skin, growling low as Blue squirmed in his lap, hands pawing uselessly at his shoulders.

“I had – had a job interview,” the blond managed around a moan, “and all I could think of was you splitting me open. F-Filling me up until I gape – _Bigby!”_

He’d bit down, not enough to break the skin but with enough force to cause Blue to go rigid in his grasp, pulse an uneven staccato beneath his teeth. He lathed the indent with his tongue, a hand following Blue’s spine to the curvature of his ass and down to the crease. Blue was completely hairless save for what was atop his head and eyebrows, even around his tight little pucker. Bigby found that it made his scent utterly unfiltered, un-trapped by any body hair. The blond opened so wonderfully for him, practically mewing as his hips ground down against the probing fingers.

Despite his wriggling, Bigby kept from breaching, circling the muscle with his finger pads. “Dunno,” he pressed lightly, “think I can fit in here?”

“Always have before.” Blue said breathlessly, grinning before leaning down and pressing their lips together. Bigby immediately deepened it, relishing in the taste as he ravaged the willing mouth. Blue met his own tongue eagerly and those full lips locked around the muscle, suckling as his hands fisted in Bigby’s hair.

The tugs of pressure were perfect, adding an edge of pain that Bigby desperately needed. He flipped them, still devouring that welcoming mouth as his hands traversed every inch of the skin displayed before him. He inhaled Blue’s scent with breaths through his nose, so deep and complete they left him almost light headed.

Blue’s scent was always so addicting, more so now that it Bigby’s own was intermingling with it, and he chased after it with his mouth. He licked every stretch of skin that he could, following the dips of Blue’s chest to worry a nipple as he burrowed his nose in his arm pit, inhaling deeply.

His hand reached blindly towards his rickety bed side table, fumbling as he yanked the drawer open and searched within it. It was probably taken longer than it needed, but the wolf was unwilling to abandon Blue’s skin for even a moment. By the time he’d found the bottle of lube, he’d worried the nipple red, the skin almost chaffed from his attentions.

The sound of the plastic cap opening seemed overly loud in the space and Blue shivered underneath him, his cock hard and leaking, leaving a sticky pool against his stomach. Bigby palmed it, grinning as the boy arched at the touch, his mouth dropping open in shameless, wanton moan.

“Oh yeah, Biggs. Need it – need you.” The hands in his hair tugged aggressively, pushing him down and Bigby obeyed, running his nose along the hard prick. It was flushed a pretty pink, the spongy head glistening and utterly lickable looking. Bigby was never one for denying himself. He bathed the length and his tongue – always wolf like in any form – was almost wide enough to completely wrap around the swollen dick.

Beneath him Blue was inconsolable, whimpering and moaning, entire frame trembling. Just from Bigby’s touch. It filled the wolf with a powerful, heady feeling. Blue’s semen was like a concentrated version of his scent and Bigby reveled in it, determined to catch each drop as he milked it from the blond. His slicked finger rubbed against the pucker of Blue’s asshole, coating it generously. No matter what they said about the Big Bad Wolf, he never wanted his partners to be in pain.

Especially not Blue.

He slid the finger inside, cock jerking powerfully at the feel of such a tight, velvet heat around it. It was always like this; Blue always healed up so tight, even after taking everything Bigby had to give. And he loved it – loved slowly working Blue open until the blond was writhing mess, broken by pleasure, limp and utterly submissive beneath his touch.

Vulnerable. Trusting.

No one trusted Bigby.

But Blue did. It was hard to deny when he was like this, hands fisted in the bedding above his head, chest heaving and cock a tender weight in Bigby’s mouth, split open by four of the wolf’s fingers.

“Biggs…Bigby! Oh, _please.”_ Blue gasped, rocking back to meet each probing thrust. “I’m ready, please.” His hands reached down, yanking harshly until Bigby let his cock pop from his mouth and be pulled up.

Eager hands tugged at his shirt and he shoved them away, tearing the fabric off and tossing it uncaringly. He stripped quickly, nearly ripping his boxers from his frame in his hurry. His cock was hard and throbbing, so red it was nearly an ugly purple. Blue eyed it hungrily, a pale hand wrapping around the thick muscle before pumping it once. Bigby snarled, eyes snapping open to reveal glowing amber irises.

But Blue wasn’t frightened. It seemed nothing ever frightened the Boy Blue. He grinned, licking his lips as he scrambled onto all fours, spine concave as he presented. Bigby grimaced, holding onto his control only by the barest of threads, clawed hands shredding his sheets as they dug clear into the meat of the mattress.

Blue’s stretched hole winked at him, fluttering open and close as it grasped at nothing. “Come on, Big Bad.” Blue breathed, his head hanging low and making his shoulder bones sharply visible. His legs spread further apart, hips canting up. “Need you so bad, don’t leave me waiting.”

He mounted the slender frame, hands running over the exposed sides as he sucked a bruise in the hollow of Blue’s throat. His hole gave only a token resistance, yielding under the insistent push of Bigby’s hips and both Fable and wolf moaned as it gave and he sunk half full on the first thrust.

 “Oh, oh God _yes.”_ Blue whined, pushing back until their hips were flush. Bigby snarled again, hands once more fisting in the filling of his cheap mattress. “Miss this – _fuck_ – always.

“Such a good bitch.” Bigby groaned as he pulled out till only the fat head of his cock remained inside before slamming back in. It always pissed him off when people used the word ‘bitch,’ human and Fable alike. Because they’d soured it, turned into something that it wasn’t. A bitch was more than just a young-baring wolf. It was a term of endearment, of respect. Never an insult.

Blue whimpered, meeting each thrust no matter how harsh it was. “Yeah,” he moaned breathily, “yeah, I’m – I’m your bitch.”

Bigby snarled, hips pistoning in at a bruising pace, so hard that Blue was being shoved face first into the covers, his limp body slowly being dragged further and further up the bed with each thrust. _“Mine.”_

“Yours. Oh, fuck, Bigby!”

Every muscle in Blue tightened, his passage fluttering around Bigby’s dick as he came with a loud cry and the wolf snarled, digging elongated canines into the meaty junction where Blue's shoulder curved into his neck. He lasted only a handful more thrust before he followed Blue over the edge, hips pressed tightly against Blue’s as he shook, knot flaring to life to seal them together. Blue cried out, bearing down hard against the growing pressure as he came once more, hands tearing at his own hair until Bigby pried them loose, holding them tightly in his own as he came again and again.

Multiple orgasms while knotting was one of the very few perks of being a wolf and they always left him as weak as a kitten. He collapsed atop the blond, carefully freeing his teeth before bathing the bleeding wound, rumbling contently at the copper taste. The bite healed quickly as it always did, Blue’s particular Fable nature all but guaranteed it.

Blue let out a deep sigh that Bigby felt more than heard as the blood trickled to a stop and the wound healed. He pressed a kiss to the shiny, new skin before dragging a pillow down to rest underneath Blue’s hips to help keep them canted at an angle that would keep the knot from being painful. His arms slid underneath them, one wrapping tightly around Blue’s waist as the forearm of the other formed an impromptu pillow for the blond.

Bigby preferred this position more than any other after sex; Blue sheltered from any prying eyes or harm underneath his larger frame. It calmed his primal hindbrain, soothed the fierce instincts to protect and possess that always came after mating, even if they were in the safety of his own home. Besides, Blue seemed to enjoy it as well or at the very least he’d never voiced any complaints. Bigby burrowed his nose in sweaty locks, breathing their mixed scents deeply. He’d never really been able to pin down just what his own smell was like, but Bigby knew that it fit alongside Blue’s perfectly.

There was a happy sigh underneath him, Blue’s arm reaching above him for a pillow. He folded the thin thing in half, resting it over top Bigby’s arm as he wrapped his own tightly around it. Blue turned his head, looking debauched and thoroughly fucked and _happy_ , blue eyes lazy with sleep. Bigby met the questing lips easily, exchanging a slow, sloppy kiss.

“Thanks, Big Bad.” Blue said around a jaw cracking yawn, snuggling deeper into the pillow. “I needed that something awful.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bigby admitted, “you should nap. I’ll wake you up when we untie.”

“Mm.” Blue agreed sleepily. “If you want. I don’t have anywhere to be though.” A sliver of blue appeared as the boy cracked an eye open to stare at him. “Unless…I mean, I can leave if you –”

“Fuck – of course you can stay.”

“Oh. Good. I don’t wanna intrude through–”

“Shut up,” Bigby ground out around a groan, hips kicking forward minutely as the last of his orgasm played out, “you’re ruining the afterglow.”

There was a snort beneath him, pale fingers curling around his forearm. “Your breath ruins the afterglow.”

“Charming.”

“Wake me up by seven though.” Another yawn. “There’s a Knight Rider marathon that…I…wanna…” Blue trailed off, breaths evening out.

 _A Knight Rider marathon,_ Bigby thought with a frown,  _I just fucked a ten year old._

“…mm, night Biggs.”

The annoyed expression smoothed away as the wolf let himself settle more atop the prone form, nuzzling at Blue’s golden crown. “Night, Blue.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked! I have two more chapters planned at the moment (that may or may not contain mpreg, more of Bigby's love triangle induced angst and partner angst/comfort all around!), and I shall put them up if there is interest. I needed to step away from my normal fandoms to get some perspective and stop writing shitty chapters and deleting them in a moment of chocolate-filled, alcoholic infused frustrated rage.


	2. A Wolf's Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was the stirring of alarm on the fringe of Bigby's thoughts, something akin to discomforted shrewdness that accompanied the sudden awareness of just how badly he wished he could fix this for Blue, of the emotional investment that implied, but Bigby pushed it away and focused on the young man in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't get this chapter out of my head. Blue's my favorite character and I think he's am awesome fit for Bigby.
> 
> Un-beated and once again written after a third.
> 
> Pre-The Wolf Among Us game plot, post some of the comics. Beware of spoilers.

**March 28th, 1986**

Bigby sat up slowly, eyes narrowing as they scanned his tiny bedroom, unsure of just what had awoken him. Two things struck him almost immediately; the only window in the room was open, the dirty city air causing the cheap plastic blinds to rattle against it, and the spot next to him – which had most certainly held a particular blond – was empty.

The wolf stood noiselessly, pulling on a pair of dirty blue jeans that had been stewing on his bedroom floor for God knows how long, and clambered out onto the fire escape. The thing was narrow and rusted, ancient and unchanged since it had been first installed in the forties, and snaked up the side of the Woodlands. The building was infinitely larger on the inside than it ever appeared from the street, with one large tower that capped out in Mayor Cole’s pent house and two smaller peaks on either side of it. Bigby lived in the lower floors of the north-east wing, where only the poorest were housed. He was still better off than those Fables who lived outside of Fabletown and his rent was partially subsidized by the government due to his job.

He ignored the dig of the no-slip pattern of the metal stairs on his the pads of his feet as he climbed. Blue’s scent lead him to the top and the wolf was utterly unsurprised to see him at the far end of the gravel rooftop, blond hair washed nearly silver under the moonlight and neon signs.

The boy stiffened at Bigby’s approach (and Bigby couldn’t help but wonder if Blue knew how exceptional that made him. He could count on his hand the number of people with enough skill to hear his footsteps) but didn’t turn to face him. He was clad only in a pair of brightly colored Jams that looked as if a paint factory had puked on them and one of Bigby’s own button ups.

His body was a graceful line and for a moment the wolf simply admired the sight of his naked neck, the lean muscle of his forearms from where they were crossed against his chest, and his small – yet strong – hands. Bigby placed his hands on his hips, nosing at the Fable’s nape. Blue seemed to melt against him at the touch, leaning heavily into the wolf’s form. He was shivering, and Bigby wrapped around him, covering the exposed forearms.

“You're cold."

Blue shrugged, head dropping back to rest on Bigby’s shoulder. “I like the wind. It helps me think.”

“Me too.” The winds had always called to him, whispering all kinds of sugar coated, nonsensical promises, anything if he would just agree to play with them. A part of his mixed heritage, no doubt. Bigby had never had any interest in learning how to use more of his wind-elemental nature than what he'd taught himself. Still, he had always taken comfort in the movement of the winds, the feel of them against his aged skin. “Why are you awake?”

“Bad dream.”

Bigby nodded knowingly. “About the war?”

Blue turned in his arms, hands sliding inside Bigby’s T-shirt, seeking the warmth that had gathered between the cotton and Bigby’s skin, his cheek settling heavily against the wolf’s breast.

“Yeah.”

It was no secret that Blue had seen a lot of the war. He’d only spent fifteen years in Colonel Bearskin’s regiment, but they were arguably the worst years of the war, and Bigby knew that the younger Fable had been at the bloodiest battles. The events of Ruby Lake, Oakcourt, Boxen, and the massacre of Hollyfield were still talked about in hushed tones - if they were spoken of at all.

Bigby had been in the Mundie world for nearly three hundred years by then. He’d been sheriff of Fabletown for a measly hundred and sixty of them (barely a blink in the life of a Fable) when Blue had arrived on the last ship out of the Homelands. The boy had looked hollow. Refined, noble - perhaps even royal - but hollow.

_The swan boat descended, the strength of its mighty wing beats strong enough to send even rocks tumbling. Around them the smoke-soaked city of New York went about its business, unaware of what was happening. Bigby grunted in annoyance as debris and wind battered his face, but unlike Cole and the others, he did not move to protect himself._

_The wolf let out a low whistle, one that was hardly audible over the noise, and the wind gentled, giving the battered and broken ship a much needed boast of control in its decent. It landed, clanking loudly against the cobblestones even as the pavers lit with magic to stabilize it._

_The gangplank descended and a horde of refugees descended, looking half mad with relief. Cole and Crane moved forward to greet them, Snow a shadow at their elbows with her parchment and quill already scribbling furiously as she took names and directed the group into a workable line for processing._

_Bigby shoved his hands into the pocket of his frock coat, giving a refugee who wandered to close a snarl and sending her tumbling back into line. Everything smelt like blood and death and the wolf didn’t need Bluebeard’s angry diatribe to know that they’d lost the last gate._

_This was the last group of refugee’s Fabletown would see. The Homeland was truly good and lost._

_A scent cut through the heavy iron and smoke, catching Bigby’s attention so thoroughly that the he paused mid-roll of his cigarette. The wolf’s head snapped up, eyes focusing sharply against the glare of the mid-day sun to register a lone figure that stood at the bow of the boat, body so straight one could have tied a plank of wood to it and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. It was a boy – though that meant little in terms of age with a Fable – clad head to toe in a deep cobalt only broken by a long, wispy cerulean cloak. His hair was blond, cut in a traditional fashion popular in Albion, and it seemed almost golden next to the pallor of his fair skin._

_His expression was wooden, mouth a flat line, and the boy’s eyes stared directly down at him, yet didn't seem to see Bigby at all. It was the face of someone who seen too much – who had reached their breaking point and retreated far into their own mind; an expression the wolf had become too familiar with during the war with the Empire._

_As Bigby watched, the boy blinked heavily once and then began to list. He cursed, cigarette tumbling forgotten from his hands as he shot forward. Cries of alarm lit the air as the boy fell head first over the railing and plummeted the thirty some feet to the ground. Bigby reached him first, skidding to a stop as he caught the boy mid-crouch, barely saving him from a harsh impact._

_The boy’s eyes were closed, body limp in Bigby’s arms. His scent surrounded them, saturating everything so close to Bigby’s nose, and it made something inside him wrench painfully._

_“Hey, wake up,” he snapped, shaking the still form, alarmed first that he received no answer and then the feeling multiplied once he realized it existed, that he was actually worried about this stranger. “I said wake up, runt.”_

_“Blue!”_

_“Boy Blue!”_

_The cries of the other refugee’s made Bigby jerk in surprise, staring at the unmoving features with new eyes._ Boy Blue? _The Boy Blue? Legends abounded about the bravery and ferocity of the Fable, even though he’d only been fighting for a handful of years._

_Bigby would have expected someone less...tender looking...to fit them._

_“Bigby.” The wolf glanced up, lips peeling in a snarl at the sight of Cole and Bluebeard standing feet from them, the mayor’s arms outstretched in request. “Give him to me.”_

_A crowd had gathered around them, Fabletown and refugee a like, their faces hard with distrust and unease, and Bigby realized all at once that their sole concern in that moment was getting Boy Blue away from the Big Bad Wolf._

_It grated on his patience, making his nostrils flare in anger. After all these years – still such distrust. Had he not followed the rules? And not just followed, but enforced them? Had he killed a_ single _Fable since arriving here? Hell, he’d still be living his self-imposed exile in Carpathia if Snow and Feathertop hadn’t dragged him back here to serve as sheriff._

To hell with this, _he thought, annoyed, and though his instincts balked at it he handed the boy over without fuss. “Take him. He smells like death anyway.”_

_That earned his gasps of disbelief and mutters of disapproval, but Bigby hardly cared. He turned on his heel, shouting a dismissal to Snow’s irritated questions as he made his way into the Woodlands, the new scent haunting his every step._

“Want to talk about it?”

Blue shuddered. “No.”

“Too much politics this evening, I think.” Bigby said with a thoughtful hum, bringing a hand up to card through Blue’s hair in a gentle pet. They’d spent the evening talking about the Returnists - Return Activists - murmurings that had filled the community. It wasn’t unexpected; every time anything of note – positive or negative – happened, the debate about whether or not Fabletown and the Farm should be planning a return to the Homeland was brought up. This time it had been brought up by protests against the recent glamour price hike. What the Fables of their town and the Farm didn't understand that the high prices and shortages weren't because the Witches and Wizards up on the 13th floor where greedy, but rather because it took that much money to obtain the magic ingredients needed to make them and each glamour took a stupid amount of time to make. The catch was that the government couldn't just explain that to their people; no, King Cole and Crane felt like it would cause panic. Bigby thought that was all hogswash, they didn't want to tell the people how difficult it was because they didn't want them to have any grounds to argue the glamour-required laws.

Honestly, most Fables were – sensibly – against the idea of returning, realizing that only death waited for them now the Adversary’s Empire had conquered all the European realms. Even now trickle of reports were drifting down about his newest crusades; the smart money said he was preparing to invade the Arabian realms next. Hardly the sign of a weakening, decaying Empire. But some - mostly non-human Fables on the Farm and those who had lost great wealth - still campaigned the movement to go home.

Politics were always the last thing Bigby wanted to talk about, especially after the clusterfuck it had been of breaking up the protests, but such talk always made Blue upset and the boy had given him a rather spectacular blow job as a thanks for _“not being the douche everyone thinks you are, and only using force when you had to.”_

Blue was firmly anti-Returnist. It wasn’t that Blue didn’t miss the Homeland or was unpatriotic or anything like that, he’d just seen too much of how it ended to be willing to return just yet. The war was far fresher in Blue’s mind than any other’s save for those who had been that last boat. Hell, Boy Blue had been the last loyal Fable out of the Homeland period. He’d seen every other defender die in an attempt to buy time for the refugees before he’d finally fled. Blue had not only lost the entirety of his garrison, but if rumor was to be believed, his lover as well. That kind of thing left wounds that didn’t heal easily.

“Maybe.” Blue said quietly. “Sometimes I just dream about it for no reason. Even after all this time."

“I get them to every now and then too, even bout the Mundie wars.”

Few understood why Bigby had snuck off to fight in both of the World Wars, not able to see why he’d ever want to involve himself in the politics of Mundies. Most figured he just wanted an excuse to kill freely again. For Bigby it had been all pretty cut and clear. He was protecting his territory, Fabletown and by default America. The wars – especially the second one – had been the only ones in the country’s history that had made him even vaguely concerned enough about invasion and all that would entail to enlist.

“I hate it.”

"Yeah. So do I.” Bigby admitted begrudgingly, meeting troubled eyes as they peeked up at him through the fringes of Blue's bangs. “They had a word for it over here, PTSD.”

“I know what PTSD is, Biggs.” Blue said with a scoff, than softer, “...I should have stayed.”

“And what, die?”

“At least I would have been with them.”

“Blue…” Bigby sighed. At a loss of how to console this, his fingers spread until they were cradling the blond’s nape, protecting the vulnerable neck. He wished there was something he could say or do, some measure of comfort he could offer Blue, but this was not something that anyone could sooth. This type of guilt could only be gentled by the one experiencing it. There was the stirring of alarm on the fringes of Bigby's thoughts, something akin to discomforted shrewdness that accompanied the sudden awareness of just how _badly_ he wished he could fix this for Blue, of the emotional investment that implied, but Bigby pushed it away and focused on the young man in his arms.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Blue murmured against his lips, standing on his toes to make the contact. “Take me back to bed?”

Bigby smirked, sweeping the other Fable into his arms so quickly that he gave a warble of surprise. _Cute._ “I live to serve.”

He made his way across the roof, Blue a giggling, snorting bundle in his arms, as he crooned promises of just _how_ he was going to wear Blue out enough to fall back asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a small fandom, so thanks so much for those who commented and kudo-ed! I'm off to try and finish the next to Court a Monster chapter, wish me luck! 
> 
> Preview of the next chapter (as a thanks for the kudos and comments!): 
> 
> "Are we in a relationship?"  
> "That's a fairly alarming question."  
>  _"Are we?_  
>  Blue face went stony. "No. Apparently we're not."
> 
> Plus actual plot!


	3. A Wolf's Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just leave it alone, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Me and Snow, that’s different.”
> 
> “Why? Because you smelt her first?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!

**April 23rd, 1986** _  
_

Bigby cracked his shoulder as he made his way back towards his apartment. After a week of healing it was almost completely back to normal, with only a few residual pings of stiffness in the joint and bone. Had it been normal bullets the Wolf would been healed ten times over by now. Truth be told Bigby had been caught off guard; he hadn’t had to face silver bullets in ages, he simply hadn’t been prepared for it. It was an oversight that he wasn't prepared to commit a second time.

 _Fucking Bloody Mary,_ Bigby grumbled to himself as he unlocked his door,  _and people think_ I’m  _the scariest thing our realms had to offer._

He didn't care that the psychopath had died under his jaws – in his mind, she'd more than made her own bed on that front - but damn it all if Snow hadn’t frowned immensely when he’d explained he’d killed her. Bigby didn’t get it, really he didn’t. He brought the Crooked Man back alive just like she wanted, so he could stand a trial amongst his peers. It wasn't like Bigby had another choice, Mary would have quite happily killed him and done god know's what with his body, the freak. It was killed or be killed, those kinds of situations only had one kind of ending. And that was without the consideration that she was far too dangerous to live, countless others would have been killed by her if she hadn't been stopped.

He’d tried to talk to Snow about it – about the Tweedles, too – but every time he did the woman was too busy getting offended by the idea that Bigby was talking down to her to listen. He wasn’t; Bigby really, really wasn’t. He knew that Snow White had gone through her own fair of tribulations in her life. Between her step mother and enslavement first by the Adversary than the Fables of the Arabian world, as well as the debacle with Prince Charming and her own sister sleeping together, Snow had seen some shit. No one who'd been in the war was without their scars. And he got that she was trying to turn over a new leaf here in Fabletown, to use her advancement as Deputy Mayor as a chance to really point their community in a better direction.

But just because Snow saw a vision for what this place could be didn’t mean that everyone else was willing to play along. All governments – even the ones on the surface that seemed fairly free and open – had people like the Crooked Man and Mary, like Bigby and his agents. People who worked around and outside of the system to both undermine and fix its problems respectively. All governments needed that. Bigby wasn’t so naïve as to think that in a few hundred years someone else wouldn't have taken up the space vacated by the Crooked Man, nor that it would require violence and blood to bring him down – just like it had this past week.

That was just the way of the world, no matter how badly Snow White wanted to make it not so.

She was just too good, too pure to see what needed to be done. Which was fine, because that’s why Fabletown had Bigby. He had no qualms about doing the dirty work and if Snow was unwilling to play ball, Bigby would just do it behind her back. Besides, it wasn’t like Cole felt the same way and he was the main power in this town. If the man hadn't been gone on political negotiations with foreign Fable governments, this entire thing would have probably gone down very differently. Having been a ruler for a long, long time back in Albion, King Cole understood that sometimes you had to break a few eggs to get what needed done, done.

Still, the entire week had just been incredibly depressing.

Because it wasn’t just Snow White's reaction, it was  _everybody’s_ horror and incredibility whenever Bigby used physical force (very appropriate amounts of violence, mind you) to handle a situation was grating and disheartening. It seemed that only Bluebeard (someone Bigby  _did not_ want to be associated with in any manner), Holly and Gren, Nerissa, and Colin seemed to agree with his actions. Everyone else stared at him like they expected him to transform into the wolf at any minutes and eat them right up. It was all just so…fucking irritating.

Did they not see what had happened to Faith and Lily had been not only been a failure of Fabletown, but of  _Bigby?_ It wasn’t a matter of liking them, they were all his chargers – his  _pack_ – and therefore Bigby’s responsibility. He’d let the outliers go unmonitored for too long and this is what had happened. It was essentially a big neon sign pointing to Bigby that read  _‘Bad Alpha.’_ But no, of course they didn’t, because they weren’t wolves and were apparently incapable of even attempting the most shallow of empathy towards what that was like for Bigby.

Hell even the Woodsman got it, and that was a weird situation all in itself. If you had told Bigby Wolf that he’d be concerned – that he may even go as far as to say that he considered Woody a friend – just a few hundred years ago he would of laughed you out of the room. But there it was.

Bigby had started catching a drink down at the Trip Trap every few nights, even if it had meant having to listen to Jack Horner’s shit. At first the group had been weary, but it seemed that Holly thought Bigby was truly sorry for what had happened and had redeemed himself for failing Lily in the end, and she had loosened up. If nothing else, she appreciated Bigby's money. A few more weeks and hopefully they’d start telling Bigby problems going on in the underground and the Fables that lived outside of Fabletown. Then maybe Bigby would have a chance to keep something like this from happening again.

Honestly, it was kind of nice to be around people who knew what he was and still treated him like shit. Most of Fabletown was giving him a wide berth after what happened with Crocked Man and the Tweedles, seemingly hyperaware once again what Bigby was capable of. Gren had even let Bigby play in a poker game, sniggering as he then proceeded to clean Bigby out of a week's pay. The fucker was killer at card games, which the wolf would remember for next time, but it was a relief that someone wasn't walking on eggshells around him enough to do so.

There was the low sound of voices from inside his apartment; Colin (who better be keeping his snout low because Snow would eat them both alive if she knew he’d escaped the farm again to hang out in Bigby’s place) and Blue. Blue had been busy training for his new job – nothing well paying (Blue never got any good paying jobs in the Mundie world since he looked like a teenager) but still an improvement on his fast food job. He was apparently working as barista at some popular fringe Mundie place that would also let him play his horn on the weekends.

Blue was an incredibly talented musician, especially at playing the blues, but he could never really get any gigs. Apparently no-one thought a blond, blue eyed, slip of a teenager knew enough about life to really be able to play it. It had been a relief to Bigby that Blue had been too busy to notice what was going on. That kind of dirt? He wanted Blue the hell away from it, he didn't deserve to be dragged down in the thick of it. Bigby swung the door open to find the blond sprawled across the floor sharing a beer with Colin, his armchair nowhere in sight.

“- than the Doc told him to set his own arm if it was bothering him so much, and if damn it all if the bastard didn’t do just that. Real nasty, but seriously – nothing compared to…oh, hey Bibgy.”

“Hey, Biggs.” Blue greeted calmly as he stood. “Colin here was just filling me in on some of the things you apparently left out about last week.” The boy stepped forward, reaching out to fuss with Bigby’s tie. “I had no idea you’d been hurt so badly.”

There was ice in those words, a not so subtle rebuke for leaving out how injured Bigby had been when he’d related the murder investigation to him last night. The wolf shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

"That’s sweet.” The knot suddenly slid up his tie, resting high and tight enough to choke the wolf before gentling. “Terribly archaic, but sweet. Still,” Blue leaned up to give him a brief kiss, “ I’d like to know when my boyfriend nearly dies.”

Bigby froze.

Blue didn’t seem to notice. “The Chinese should be here any second, I’m gonna go wait in the lobby before Grimble scares him off with his snoring.”

Boyfriend?

He pulled on the sweater that was hanging on the back of the front door, his voice muffled through the fabric as he walked out into the hall with it still wrapped around his head, “behave boys.”

_Boyfriend?_

“You okay there, Biggs?” Colin asked, his hooves clacking against the wood floor. “You look like someone smacked you on the nose with a newspaper.”

“Did he just say boyfriend?”

“So what if he did?”

“I'd be pretty fucking confused. We’ve been sleeping together, Colin, not dating.”

The pig sighed. “Jesus, Bigby, you’re some kind of work. You really gonna do this?”

“What?”

Colin rolled his eyes, leaning down to lap at the bowl of beer placed in front of him. “Just what it is it about you that makes you sabotage every good thing that comes to you?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Bigby asked, lost.

“Seriously, you can’t be this blind.” Colin said as he sat down heavily, glaring up at him. “The kid is completely head over heels for you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah?” Colin drawled, “for the past seven months, that kid has practically lived over here when he’s not working or hanging with Flycatcher and Pinocchio. He does your laundry, he cleans your place, he makes you food – does any of this ring a bell to you?”  Bigby frowned. “Oh come on – are you a wolf are aren’t you? You’re telling me you don’t see that the kid’s been courting you? Acting like a  _submissive mate_ courting a  _dominant?”_

Bigby gaped at him around his cigarette. “Blue’s a human Fable, he doesn’t work like that.”

Colin mumbled something under his breath, something that sounded suspicious like  _‘cause you’re the only mixed breed about’_  but that couldn’t be right, because Bigby knew Blue. The boy had never smelt like anything other than human, Bigby would have known if he was mixed with anything else. The nose never lied. “Whatever.”

“We’re not like that, Colin. We’ve never been like that.” The wolf insisted, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck. “I think I’d know if we were dating.”

“Bigby - no offense - but when it comes to emotions, you wouldn’t recognize a pile of shit if you stepped into it.” Colin said with a snort. “Why you so against this anyway, Biggs? You got something good with the kid.”

“Look, what me and Blue have been doing – it’s just sex. I mean,” Bigby paused, unsure how to articulate what he was thinking, “we're…it’s not like that.”

Colin’s expression was surprisingly unreadable. Despite being a pig, he always was one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “Why?”

“We’re just not.” Bigby grunted, annoyed, and moved towards the desk to ash his cigarette.

“Because he’s not Snow White.” Colin amended shrewdly. “I don’t get what you see in that broad, I really don’t. Especially after last week. The way she treated you–”

“Just drop it, alright?” He snapped. “I don’t want to have this conversation again. Besides, you know Snow’s been under a lot of pressure with this whole Crane thing.”

“No, Biggs. I’m not going to just ‘drop it.’”

“When the fuck did you get a say in my personal life, Colin?” Bigby interrupted, truly pissed now. “Really, explain to me how any of this is your business.”

“Because I’m your friend, pal – which is a real short list by the way – and I’m not going to just sit here and watch you shit this down the drain.” The pig said sharply, jumping back up onto all fours. “What does Snow have that Blue doesn’t anyway?”

“Just leave it alone, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Me and Snow, that’s different.”

“Why? Because you  _smelt_  her first?”

“Hey fucker, I told you that in confidence.” Bigby snarled, pointing threateningly at the pig.

“Yeah? You see anyone else here?” Colin snapped back, eyes narrowing. “Listen to me, Bigby. You said it yourself; Blue smells like mate too. And out of the two of them, my vote's with Boy Blue. The kid's in love with you - god know's why. He likes you for what you are, Bigby Wolf and the Big Bad Wolf. Do you really think you're ever going to find anyone else like that? And to pretend that what you two got going on is anything _but_ a relationship is–”

The door opened, Blue walking in with an armful of Chinese bags.

“I hope you don’t mind, Biggs, I got you Sweet and Sour chicken with white rice instead of pork – because, you know. Colin and all. But don’t worry, I got you an order of General Tso and Chinese Vegetables, too. I know how much you eat.” Blue announced cheerfully as he set the food down on the table. He began pulling the boxes and cartons out, pausing mid spread to glance at them critically. “Everything okay? Did I interrupt something?”

Bigby said  _“no”_ at the same time Colin said  _“yes,”_ and the two exchanged a glare.

 “Oh-kay.” Blue said slowly, staring at both of them like they’d lost their minds. “I got you the veggie special, Colin. Just give me a sec to grab a bowl.”

“Thanks, Blue.” Colin said sharply, giving Bigby a pointed stare. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“No problem, piggy-man.”

“Are we in a relationship?” The words just seemed to tumble from him and Bigby barely contained his wince, the action showing only in the twitch of his lips.  

"That's a fairly alarming question."

 _"Are we?”_ Bigby pressed _._ The boy turned slowly to stare at him and Bigby grimaced, heart sinking with realization of  _holy shit, he thinks we are._

Blue's face went stony. "No. Apparently we're not."

The blond turned back to the table, setting the carton down. Without a word or another glance towards him, Blue turned and left the apartment, the door clicking loudly behind him.

“That was the stupidest thing you have ever done.” Colin announced, voice short and hostile, and crossed the room to tug at the washcloth tied on the door knob, pulling it open. "And this is coming from someone whose house you destroyed."

“Where you going?”

The pig gave him a dirty look. “Where do you think I’m going? I’m gonna go check on Blue. Poor kid's gotta be a mess considering you just crushed his heart. He got Flycatcher to clean your chair by the way. You're welcome.”

“Colin-” Bigby shouted, lurching forward too late to stop the pig from slipping out, “Colin damn’t, you’ll be seen.”

For a pig Colin could move pretty quick when he wanted to and the wolf only caught the end of his curly tail before it disappeared around the corner. By the time Bigby caught up to him, Colin were already in the elevator, the pig wearing a gentle expression that he’d never seen on him before as he stood next to Blue.

“–know what he was saying, Blue. You know he’s shit at this kind of thing.”

“No,” Blue said quietly, eyes flat as they locked with Bigby's, “he knew exactly what he was saying.”

The elevator doors slid closed with a soft  _‘bing,’_ leaving Bigby with the haunting image of bright blue eyes, as hollow as they had been that day on the boat.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^;
> 
> Bigby is an ass.
> 
> But I promise, he'll be better. 
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos, they really keep me going in this tiny fandom. (Hint to other writers: write! We need more of _everything!_ Het, Slash, FemSlash, we need it all! Come on my glorious pen pushers and typers, come out of hiding and breath life into this fandom!


	4. A Wolf Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s avoiding me.” Bigby admitted lowly, shoulders slumping.
> 
> Holly gave him an exasperated look. “You’re the Big Bad Wolf. If you can’t find him, you’re obviously not trying hard enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. This story just won't leave me alone.

**June 23rd, 1986**

At such a late hour, Trip Trap was empty save for its regulars, something which Bigby was pretty damn grateful for because he was well on his way to being drunk. It took a lot to get a werewolf drunk, but half of Holly’s stock was aimed at Fables so she had stuff strong enough to get even the largest and strangest creature drunk.

Phil Collins’ _Take Me Home_ was playing on low in the background, setting the quiet, peaceful tone for the smokey bar. Bigby wasn’t a fan of the Mundie singer himself, but it seemed like the man was everywhere this decade and it was still better than the hair bands that had been blowing up the radio lately. Holly was washing the last of the dishes save for the tumbler Bigby was drinking out of, the troll humming quietly along with the song.

Gren was passed out on one of the pool tables and Bigby had help shove a plastered Jack (Woody apparently hadn’t managed to make it back into Holly’s good graces enough to be allowed inside the bar) into a cab an hour before, the former complaining loudly the entire time. And if he’d shoved Jack at just the right angle so he’d catch his head on the cab door – well, you spend five minutes with Jack Horner and see if you weren’t inspired to hit him with something.

“So,” Holly said after a moment, elbows deep in the sink, “you wanna tell me just what the hell is wrong with you?” Bigby gave her a strange look and the troll shrugged. “Not that we don’t just love your visits over here in Bronx, but you’ve been in nearly every night looking like someone shat in your Wheaties.”

Bigby kicked back the rest of his drink, giving her an appreciative nod as she refilled it without prodding. He lit another cigarette, leaning back. “What can I say? I just can’t get enough of your charms.”

Holly snorted as she rinsed off a glass and began to dry it. “Seriously, Wolf. Just what the hell’s been going on with you?”

“We friends now Holly?” Bigby teased, taking another drink, the alcohol burning the whole way down.

“Maybe.” For the moment the wolf just stared at her, caught completely off guard by concept as much as he was with the honest answer.

Holly rolled her eyes. “You poor bastard.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Sheriff, just starting to see things from a different perspective.” The troll answered cryptically. “Just wondering if maybe I ought to up my insurance or something, you being in a stink this long can’t spell anything good.”

“Nah,” Bigby reassured, stubbing out his butt only to light another moments later, “it’s nothing like that. It’s personal.”

It was two months to the night that Blue had walked out of his apartment. The boy hadn’t been back, not even to collect the shirts and jeans (and one pair of boxers that Bigby may have pathetically jacked off to – sexual frustration was a real bitch) that had accumulated at wolf's place. As far as he could tell, the blond hadn’t returned to his apartment once even though he had a key. Bigby hadn’t expected that he would miss Blue, but he did. It was embarrassing how many times he’d woken up to find himself rutting into the mattress to the last lingering hints of Blue’s scent, or how often he’d caught himself reaching out to pull a warm body close where there was none. And it was more than just Blue’s hot and willing body that Bigby missed. As much as he was loathed to give Colin any credit, he had to admit that the pig was right; he and Blue had been in a relationship, even if that hadn’t been Bigby’s intention.

And Bigby wasn’t the only one going through withdraw. Colin complained regularly about the lack of fresh meals or the state of his barren fridge, and his apartment had become incredibly cluttered and messy over the last two months. As shitty as it sounded, Bigby had no idea just how much Blue did for him until the Fable was no longer doing it.

But that was alright, because Bigby couldn’t feel like more of an asshole than he already did.

Blue’s expression that day in the elevator haunted him and Bigby was under no illusions that he’d done anything other than fucked up royally. For the last few months there’d been nothing, absolutely no sign of the kid. Occasionally Bigby would catch his scent in the air, but it was always old and almost stale.

It didn’t help that his wolf instincts were at a loss on how to handle the Fable’s disappearance. He hadn’t been able to shake this paranoia that something had happened to Blue, even though Bigby knew that Blue’s absence was his own doing and not because someone was keeping the blond from him. It was still driving Bigby up the proverbial wall; his instincts wanted him to locate the boy, to see that he was alright.

Whether Bigby had intended it or not, his body saw Blue as a probable mate – another thing Colin had been right about – and the fact that Blue had seemingly dropped off the face of the earth sparked something visceral inside the wolf. He _needed_ to know that Blue was alright. It was like an episode of insanity; a need that wouldn’t go away, a constant itch under his skin, a thought that was always on the fringe of his consciousness.

He’d tried to calm it by spending time with Snow, but she was way too busy trying to get everything back on track after Crane. The pervert had apparently left the government in shambles and she had no patience for Bigby, telling him that if he had enough time to hang out around her office it meant that he either wasn’t doing his job correctly or didn’t have enough to do. Either one meant she was clearing paying him too much.

He’d given Snow her space after that, it was hard enough to make ends meet as it was.

In the end it had gotten so bad that a week ago Bigby had broken down and bribed Bufkin with a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine to get Blue’s citizenship file. The intent was to get the address of Blue’s new work, maybe if he could just see that the kid was alive and whole his instincts would calm the hell down so he could get some work done and go on with his life.

It was a gross violation of privacy, as a Fable’s citizenship file held their entire personal history, but the wolf had hardly cared if it meant he’d get some peace. What he had found had sent Bigby into a tail spin, because while he’d gotten Blue’s work address he'd stumbled on a hell of a lot more. He really had meant just to find the coffee place’s information, but it was hard not to notice that packet with a title page labeled ‘NEED-TO-KNOW ONLY) on the front of it.

Need-to-Know’s where reserved for Fables who either had a violent past or were considered high-threat, neither of which Bigby thought applied to Blue. Curious, he’d flipped it open. There was a rough sketch of Blue (probably done by Bufkin, the monkey was actually fairly talented when he wasn’t drunk or crippled by self-worth issues) and everything had seemed pretty normal until the ninth sentence, where the words _‘Species: MIXED’_ jumped off the page.

 

The feeling that Blue’s profile had given him had been similar to getting the rug torn out from beneath you; Bigby’s mouth had gone dry, his stomach bottoming out in horrible realization. As he read, Colin’s words from that night that he'd so readily dismissed rang in his head. He was going to _skewer_ Colin the next time he saw the pig. He had no idea how (probably the same sixth-sense for survival that had kept him alive all these years) but Colin had hightailed out of his apartment by the time Bigby had come storming in to demand answers.

Like how the hell had he known that Blue was a wolf-mix when even Bigby had failed to pick it up? He’d never picked up any hint of his own kind’s scent on Blue and Bigby’s nose was _intimately_ acquainted with the blond’s body. Maybe it was because his grandfather had been a Norse wolf, Bigby had never run into one before; he had no idea how they smelled. In truth, Bigby had only heard of Fenrir and his wicked sons in passing, and even then they were mainly scary stories his mother used to tell them in their den to pass the time while storms ravaged the country side around them.

If half the stories about Fenrir were true...well, it was hard to imagine someone like Blue coming from that stock. And how had Fenrir’s daughter even ended up in Albion? She must have had a human form or else Bigby would have run into her at some point, the wolf community had been pretty small after all. And why hadn’t Blue ever said anything to him about it? Actually, Bigby was pretty sure he knew the answer to that one. Mixed breedings weren’t uncommon – how could they be given Fables' nature? – but they weren’t exactly something approved of, especially between human and non-human Fables.

Most didn’t know that Bigby’s father wasn’t a wolf and even if they did, North’s elemental nature pretty much removed any scorn from the equation. Elementals were unpredictable and queer by nature; they did what they wanted when they wanted to, and very little of it ever made sense to anyone outside their kind. It would have been far different for Blue and his mother.

It also made what had gone down between he and Blue just that much worse. Bigby felt like a real piece of shit. Blue _had_ been courting him in the wolf way, the assumption being that Bigby was smart enough to pick up on it. But he hadn’t. The kid must have seen his lack of reaction – no, Blue must have seen their continued interactions – as Bigby’s approval of his suit.

Bigby had lead Blue on not only in human terms but in wolf, and then humiliated him by refusing him in front of another – in front of _Colin,_ their friend. The wolf sighed heavily, pushing the empty glass towards Holly.

“Yeah, I know that look.” Holly said as she leaned back, arms crossing. “That’s the look of a man who’s fucked up.”

“Really now?” Bigby asked dryly.

“Uh huh.” A manicured finger pointed at him. “You’ve run afoul a woman. Let me guess, the Ice Princess doesn’t want to play fetch with you anymore.”

Bigby rolled his eyes, the dog jokes were starting to get old. Not to mention they were unoriginal, there wasn’t a dog joke variation Bigby hadn’t heard over the past few hundreds of years. “Snow and I aren’t together, we’ve never been together.”

And for the first time Bigby was starting to question if they ever were going to be. It wasn’t like he really thought he had any real chance with her to begin with, but there was always a part of him that just assumed it would work out. How could it not with Snow smelling the way she did?

But part of the reason why Bigby hadn’t pursued Snow earlier was the fact that he’d been pretty sure that he wasn’t into human women. As he aged, the wolf had just thought that was a side-effect of the fact that Bigby hadn’t ever really thought _any_ human Fable worth his time when he’d been younger. Bigby had been too obsessed with growing bigger and stronger so he could snap his dad’s neck and avenge his mother to ever really give any thought to mating. But Bigby had always figured he would eventually, with a nice bitch of his own kind.

He’d come around to Snow after they’d begun to lose the war. He’d become even more convinced that she was his mate the longer he’d spent in the Mundie world and got used to his human form. But now there was Blue…

Blue, who smelled just as sweet and was a wolf-mix. Blue, with his gorgeous coloring and beautiful lips. Blue, whose warm and tight body fit so perfectly against Bigby’s. Blue, who never complained about Bigby’s smoke-filled apartment despite his dislike of it. Blue, who would spend hours talking about everything and nothing when the silence in Bigby’s apartment got too oppressive. Blue, who was gone.

Bigby brought a hand up to rub at his face in frustration.

“It’s actually a ‘he.’” He said after a moment, unsure why he was even explaining himself. Holly was only just starting to really tolerate his presence, so Bigby could only guess that he was just _that_ desperate for a sounding board.

“What, you been skipping around on him or something?” Holly asked, seemingly amused.

“No.” Bigby barked sharply, finding himself irrationally offended by the idea that he’d cheat on Blue. Offended about a slight to a relationship with a boy who wouldn’t even be in the same room as him. Jesus, how the hell had this become his life? Two mate prospects and neither one of them could stand to be in his presence.

“Okay, okay.” Holly said, hands up placating, “my mistake. What did you do?”

A part of the wolf bristled at her assumption that it had been him who’d fucked up, but then again it had been Bigby. “Look, wolves – we’re different when it comes to being with people. We don’t date, not really. We mate based on scent; every wolf’s supposed to have one scent that calls to them. Before I had a human form the idea of dating didn’t even really register.”

“I can get that,” Holly said as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “Trolls are kinda the same way. We have imprints. They’re sort of the same thing, I guess. When two imprints meet they form a mate-bond pretty much on sight. Not everybody meets their imprint though, so it’s not strange to choose your own mate. Lily though…” Holly got a gentle expression on her face, eyes distant, “she was a real romantic. Before we came here, she was sure she was gonna wait for her imprint.”

Bigby glanced down, not wanting to interrupt. Lily was – understandably – still a sore subject with Holly and the troll rarely ever brought her up around him, so the wolf didn’t want to do or say anything that could be mistaken for negative.

“But like I said, she was a romantic.” Holly continued after a moment, snapping back to herself as she helped herself to one of Bigby’s Huff and Puffs. “I never met my imprint. He either died or is still over in the Homelands.”

“What about you and Gren?”

“Me and Gren…that’s complicated.” She glanced at where Grendel was still soundly passed out. “I know the poor sod wants it, but I dunno. He’s the only one of his kind here; sometimes I think he’s just lonely.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Bigby said carefully, lighting Holly’s cigarette before doing the same for his own. “We’re supposed to find our own happiness here. Hell, Ms. Muffet married the Spider.”

Holly laughed, the sound raspy. “Yeah, I suppose so. What about you and your man, what stopped you from finding your ‘happiness?’ Is it the scent thing? Cause Biggs, I hate to break it to you bud, but its slim picking wolf-wise around here.”

“Turns out he’s actually quarter-mixed,” Bigby said as he rubbed at his eye. The alcohol was starting to wear off, leaving a tiredness that he felt in his bones. “But I had to find that out on my own, fucker didn’t tell me.” Then, because he felt guilty about making Blue the villain in any form, “though I never asked either. Holly, do trolls ever have two imprints?”

“Is that what’s happening to you?” Holly asked shrewdly, flicking the ash from her cigarette onto the ground uncaringly. “I take it back, Bigby. You’re apparently doing just fine for yourself. Figures.”

“Holly.”

“What? Learn to take a joke.” She drawled, unimpressed by his glare. “To answer your question, no, not that I’ve heard of. So you say you didn’t cheat, yet you’re not with Snow or him.”

“I didn’t say the other was Snow.”

Another roll of her eyes, “I’m taking a not-so-wild guess here. Anyone can see you have something for Snow White.”

Was he seriously _that_ transparent?

“Yeah, hun. You really were that obvious.” Holly answered, seemingly catching his thoughts with little trouble, eyes twinkling. “I take it Snow doesn’t share your interest.”

“No, she’s made that clear to me.” He said sourly, hitting his cigarette harshly before chasing it with his drink. “Repeatedly.”

“Yeah, well, a pretty girl like that? She’s never gonna be able to see past who you are, Bigby.” Holly said, shrugging at his glare. “It’s the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. People like Snow White, they’re not like us.”

“Like us?”

“Yeah, like us.” The troll confirmed firmly. “They can’t even begin to understand what you are. No matter how well you play the guard dog for them – hell, it doesn’t even matter that you live up in the Woodlands – you’re always gonna be the Big Bad Wolf. Just like I’m always going to be a troll, no matter what the Amnesty says. Trust me, people like that? They don’t forget, even if they say they forgive. And Snow White?” Holly shook her head. “She ain’t ever going to give you the time of day. Things are only black and white to her. And hunny, you need a hell of a lot of grey.”

A thick silence descended around them. Nothing Holly had said was anything he hadn’t thought before, but there was always something about having someone else say it that made everything hold more weight.

Snow had been lost to him for a long time, that was if Bigby had ever had her in the first place. And frankly he was starting to get tired of constantly be shot down, no matter how hard he tried. Blue had wanted him, Blue had wanted him even if it meant he’d lose status by being in a relationship with him. The boy had cared for him – had been a good mate, now that Bigby let himself really look at it in that context.

He missed Blue.

It was just like Bigby to not realize what he had until it was long gone.

“Well, I don’t have either one of them.” Bigby said, tone hard as he threw enough money down to cover his tab. “Turns out you’re right, Holly. I’m can’t be anything but the Big Bad Wolf, I destroy everything I touch. Even if I don’t want to.”

“Sheriff!” Holly started, jerking up at his kicked off the stool to leave. “Sheriff – Bigby, just wait a second.” He turned to look at her, irritated. All he wanted to do was go home and bury his face in Blue’s pillow like the pathetic ass he was.

“What?”

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that.” She said, looking awkwardly. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean no-one could love you. You should try talking to him.”

“I can’t.”

“I mean it, Bigby.” The troll said sharply. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m gonna take a guess that you did something stupid because of the ‘two scents’ thing. If you want him, for god’s sake go and apologize. For all you know he could just be waiting for you to chase after him.”

“He’s avoiding me.” Bigby admitted lowly, shoulders slumping.

Holly gave him an exasperated look. “You’re the Big Bad Wolf. If you can’t find him, you’re obviously not trying hard enough.”

He chuckled at that – more at her expression than anything else – and nodded, heading towards the door. It was really late and he had a long day tomorrow.

“Bigby.” The wolf paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder. “If you go after him, you better be damn sure that’s what you want.”

“…will do. Thanks, Holly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and the kudos, I love hearing from you guys. It's really great to hear from you guys!


	5. A Wolf's Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Blue, you have to know that this has nothing to do with you.”
> 
> Blue made a horrible choking sound, some strange mix of a laugh and a sob. “Trust me, Big Bad. I’ve gotten that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beated and written after a third.

**July 4th, 1986**

Despite his intentions, Bigby didn’t get a chance to seek Blue out until nearly a week later, and even then it had been more a lucky happenstance than anything else. Bigby had been kept busy with the presence of Mundie cops in the neighborhood; a pair of robbers had hidden themselves inside Fabletown and the NYPD had insisted on patrolling and searching building by building until they found them.

Between keeping everyone in line and acting like normal humans, and keeping the cops from noticing they weren't, Bigby had his hands so full it had been days before he'd manages to track them down. They’d been smart enough to move around frequently, which had been as annoying to Bigby as it had been upsetting for the local Fables, who alternated between indiginat and hysterical they were going to be exposed.

He’d just seen the duo off (who were both fervently trying to convince the police that they’d seen a group of rats knotted at their tails playing poker, which meant that Bigby was going to be having a very interesting conversation with the Rat King soon) after a long, irritating day. It was the first chance he'd had to return to his apartment in days. His first order of buisness was a shower, but Blue’s elusive scent caught his attention. Bigby paused in unlocking his door, glancing towards the end of the hallway. The air conditioning in the building was shoddy on the best days and the hallway windows were often open to try and break up the stale summer heat, and the lack of a breeze meant he could smell Blue easily.

The wolf abandoned his door without a second thought, climbing out the window and onto the same fire escape that his own bedroom window shared. It was never really dark in the city, but it was well enough in the evening for the moon to be out. The entire city was bustling below, the sounds of excitement and parties filling the air. The fireworks would be starting soon and Bigby could see people set up along the river to watch.

He pulled himself up and over the building edge and onto the roof, footsteps silent despite the gravel laid down for filtration. A plastic tarp was laid out with a comforter over it, and Blue was stretched overtop it, chest rising in slow, easy pulls. A cooler rested just at the edges of it, kept company by a handful of empty beer cans and the low sound of a perky disc jockey narrating the fireworks’ schedule from a boombox.

Bigby paused a few feet away, both hands in his pockets as he drank the sight in hungrily. The blond was clad in a pair of white-washed jean shorts and a black _Stalkthing_ tank-top, and the contrasting colors made the healthy tan he’d accumulated over the summer all that more apparent. The shorts were in fashion, cut short and high to show the long lengths of Blue’s thighs and legs, and Bigby felt his cock stir at the memory of them wrapped tightly around him.

Blue was singularly beautiful, that was not something that could be denied, and while he was an usually attractive human that was the only thing he appeared to be. As a wolf Bigby was covered in hair, even in his human form. But Blue was practically hairless save for what he had atop his head and the thick, golden curls around his cock. True, Blue only had a fourth of wolf blood in him if his citizenship file was too believed, but Bigby just couldn’t see it.

“You should try taking a shower if you want to sneak up on somebody, Bigby,” Blue said suddenly, “or at least stand downwind. I swear I could smell you the second you reached the top floor.”

“Wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.” Bigby said gruffly, eyes locked on Blue's lines as the boy stretched, his hands above his head, body quivering.

Blue sighed, head cocking back as he stared up at him. “What do you want, Biggs?”

He shrugged. “Why are you up here?”

He rolled his eyes before hauling himself up into a sitting position, his back to Bigby. “I’m up here to watch the fireworks.”

“Alone?”

Blue shrugged as he dug into the cooler and brought a beer out. “Apparently I’ve been a real downer lately; Pinocchio and Flycatcher went to Beauty and Beast’s viewing party.”

Bigby snorted. Seriously, those two were real pieces of work. Up to their eyes in debt and yet they still insisted on throwing major parties for every event and national holiday. He’d always found them pretentious, but Bigby had no idea just _how_ bad they were until the Crooked Man fiasco. Who the hell got involved with a loan shark because they couldn’t handle the idea of downsizing their apartment? Especially with the likes of the Crooked Man.

“I suppose that’s my fault.” Bigby offered lamely, wincing when Blue didn’t so much as twitch in response. He made his way to the blanket but a sharp warning from Blue _(“Don’t you step on this blanket with your shoes on, Bigby Wolf.”)_ had him stalling at the very edge of it. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t really want to see you.”  

“Blue–”

“Don’t.” The blond interrupted, tone harsh. He stood abruptly, hands fisting by his side. “I don’t want to hear it, Bigby. Just leave.”

“No.”

 “Fine, if you won’t leave I will.” He made his way to the edge of the blanket, toeing on his converses, face livid, before storming past Bigby, blanket and supplies apparently abandoned.

 “Blue, hey," he caught the blond by the arm, halting him before he could get completely past him, “just wait a second, damn’t. I just want to talk.”

“About what, Bigby?  How gentle you were with breaking things off with me? Or do you want to talk about how you used me as convenient fuck for seven months before deciding you just might have a shot with Ms. Snow after all?” Blue’s eyes were deadly. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Bigby looked away.

“What? Did you think I didn’t know about that? Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.” Blue said darkly, “I blame myself. You’ve always wanted Snow White, everybody knows that. Why the hell I ever thought that you’d choose someone like me over –”

He broke off, shaking his head.

“What do you mean by that?” Bigby asked, eyes narrowing. “Blue?”

“Just drop it.” Blue muttered, yanking his arm free. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well tough shit, I do.” Bigby growled out, recapturing the boy’s arm and forcing him back around to face him. “Answer me, what the hell do you mean by someone like you?”

“Let go of my arm.”

“You gonna run off the second I do?”

“Probably.” Blue answered honestly.

“Then no.” Bigby stepped closer to the smaller Fable, grip tight but barely enough pressure to hurt. “Blue, you have to know that this has nothing to do with you.”

Blue made a horrible choking sound, some strange mix of a laugh and a sob. “Trust me, Big Bad. I’ve gotten that.”

“No, damn’t that’s not what I –” Bigby let out a frustrated grunt. “What happened – that’s all on me, do you hear me? I mean it. Blue, I’m the jackass. You were never just a ‘convenient fuck.’” Bigby pressed, insistent, almost desperate. He couldn’t stand the idea of the blond thinking that. Blue said nothing, his head bowed and face obscured by his hair. “You were more than enough – more than anything I deserved.”

“Maybe I am.” Blue answered hoarsely, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t want me.”

“I want you.” The wolf said urgently, both hands on Blue’s shoulders now, overtaken with the need to touch. “I’ve not stopped wanting you.”

The younger Fable shook his head, suddenly looking very young and very vulnerable. “I don’t believe you. You’re in love with Snow.”

“I feel…something…for Snow,” Bigby admitted, “and I have for a long time. She’s always smelled like mate and–” Blue was suddenly wrenching himself away, but Bigby wouldn’t allow it. His hands automatically corrected their grip, pulling the blond back until he was trapped against his chest.

“Let me go, Bigby!”

“Blue–”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Blue cried, voice weak, hands yanking fruitlessly at Bigby’s grip. “Do I really have to stand here and hear about your mate?”

“You smell like mate, too.” In his arms Blue went still, pretty eyes wide and stunned. “You both smell like mate to me, from the moment I met either one of you, and wolves don’t do polygamy. I was confused, alright? For decades I thought Snow White was it, but I found the idea of being with a human woman repulsive. Then I came here and…I thought, now that I had a human form maybe I should try to make it work. But then you came, smelling so fucking perfect. You think I had an identity crisis with Snow? You should have seen what you did to me. But neither one of you ever showed any interest, until you picked me up in the elevator last fall.”

Blue’s cheeks erupted in a blush, eyes flicking down in embarrassment. That night had been one for the books. Blue had been coming home from a Halloween party, dressed up as a firefighter – if firefighters worked shirtless that is. He’d been flushed from drinking and the night air, nipples pebbled and framed obscenely by his suspenders. It had only taken a few seductive smiles and dirty promises before Bigby had given in and let the boy suck him off right there in the elevator, cameras and Grimble be damned.

“Colin wasn’t lying, I’m shit at anything that has to do with emotions. I didn’t even realize what was happening until you were gone.” Bigby’s hands slid up, cupping Blue’s face in a gentle hold. He pressed their foreheads together, inhaling the scent that he’d been craving until his lungs felt like were going to burst. “You’re all I think about, all I dream about.” He leaned in, lips hovering a hair’s breadth from Blue’s, “I miss you. I want you, just you.”

Blue shuddered, arms tugging Bigby down by his neck until their lips met. There was nothing delicate about the kiss; it was a desperate, ugly thing with too much teeth but neither cared. Bigby groaned as he gripped Blue tighter, a hand fisting tightly in his hair while the other traveled hungrily over the small blond’s back.

He opened so wonderfully under his hands, a leg coming up to curl around the wolf, bring their hips into direct contact and Bigby was beyond pleased to feel Blue’s erection pressing against his own. He yanked the boy up by his hips, Blue’s legs curling around his waist obediently as he carried them back towards the blanket, their lips never separating for more than a moment.

He laid the boy down gently, draping his body overtop Blue’s instantly. Blue felt so right below him, Bigby couldn’t believe that he’d almost let himself lose this. He took his time, ravaging Blue’s mouth until his lips were red and chaffed and the blond looked dazed before working his shirt off. He felt like an addict getting his first fix after days, hands and mouth greedy as they ran over every inch of the exposed skin. Blue was squirming beneath his touch, eager and wanton, and managed to lose his boxers and shorts long before the wolf felt he’d left enough love bites and bruises on his pale chest to move on. He bypassed the delicious mouthful that was Blue’s cock for his ass, inhaling the heady pool of scent there before pulling the cheeks apart and diving in.

Blue shook around him, legs wrapped tightly around his shoulders, heels digging into Bigby’s back as the blond tried to force his tongue deeper. Bigby kept him still by the hips, bathing the little hole until it was sopping inside in and out, the muscle tightening and releasing erratically around his tongue. The fireworks had begun, lighting up the sky around them and making vibrations reverberate deep inside Bigby’s chest, but the wolf didn’t care. He would have been content to stay just like that, tongue so deep in Blue’s ass that his jaw ached, but it seemed the Boy Blue had other ideas.

Bigby snarled, eyes flashing as he suddenly found himself expertly thrown, Blue settling heavily on his lap. The boy raised himself up on his knees and sheathed himself in one smooth move that made Blue’s body arch sharply, mouth open and eyes unseeing, and robbed Bigby of all thought. The scent of blood drifted into the air, undoubtedly from the lack of preparation, but if Blue hurt he didn’t show it. His hands splayed flat across Bigby’s chest for balance as he rode Bigby roughly, face contorted in pleasure.

Bigby lasted a handful of moments like that, caught in the sight of Blue undulating atop him, skin and hair painted bright colors by the fireworks, before snapping. He flipped them, biting deeper into Blue’s neck than he'd ever dared before, as he fucked into the boy hard enough to shock the breath from him. Nails dug into his back, legs gripping him in a vice like hold as Blue cried out, head thrown back and blood spilling liberally from where Bigby was still teeth-deep in his neck. It was unlike any of their other fucks; this was something more than sex, and yet was still far different from making love.

This was mating.

Bigby snarled, barely managing to let go of Blue before he’d nails sharpened, digging them into gravel instead of flesh. The leather of his shoes protested as his toenails lengthened and pressed against it, and Bigby’s shirt tightened warningly around him before bursting across the back. Far from frightening him, the sight of Bigby’s wolf-features seemed to make Blue gag for it, the younger Fable whimpering and whining whorishly beneath him (and how had Bigby ever mistaken those sounds for anything but wolf in nature?).

His knot was swelling fat, tugging on Blue’s rim with every outward thrust. Bigby pulled out, mouth and chin soaked with blood as he flipped Blue onto his stomach. The boy scrambled onto all fours, limbs spreading wide as he presented, and Bigby’s lust burned impossibly hotter at the sight. Because this wasn’t Blue trying to goad Bigby, or some bedroom game the Fable was willing to indulge him in.

It was instinct; it was Blue, begging to be taken by his alpha.

Bigby lunged forward, mouth ripping into Blue’s neck once more, thrusting knot deep and into the most intense tie of his life. Blue locked around him, asshole a tight clamp around the base of his cock, pleasured cries lost to the sounds of the fireworks as he came messily onto the blanket below.

Bigby hardly noticed, to lost in his own orgasm.

His vision whited out, every muscle tensing to the point of pain, his claws digging past the blanket and tarp until they reached the tar and gravel and below. A low, continuous growl was escaping him, muffled only by the flesh in his mouth. His jaw ached as he fought against the urge to bite down harder; Bigby could already feel the tips of his canines where they met inside Blue’s neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to disengage. He was overcome with the need to keep his mate still and the tie undisturbed as he spent himself, even as he worried he was hurting Blue.

The blond was whining, hands flaying about before finding Bigby’s and curling tightly over top them – his grip too locked to even allow Blue to take them into his own. The fireworks had finally come to an end above them and the crowd erupted surreally into hollers and clapping. It sparked something primal in his mind, the sound a harsh reminder of how exposed they were and Bigby immediately flattened himself overtop the blond, growls increasing greatly.

“It’s okay,” Blue shushed him, voice hoarse. “Nobody up here but us, no-one’s gonna try and take me –” Bigby snarled and bit down harder, furious at the idea. Blue whimpered, squeezing tighter around his cock in response. “Right, stupid thing to say. Just need to wait a little more, I promise, than you can take me inside.”

‘A little more’ turned out to be nearly a half-hour, the wolf’s longest tie yet. Blue was asleep within five minutes, body limp and pliant in Bigby’s hold. Rationality returned somewhere around the ten minute mark when Bigby was able to carefully pull his teeth free. He kept his mouth over the jagged wound, hoping the warmth would keep some of the sting away while Blue’s healing kicked in. He rolled them onto their sides, a leg thrown possessively over Blue’s hips, eyes glancing about the rooftop for threats.

When his knot finally went down enough for him to pull it free, Bigby's instincts were just on the verge of becoming unmanageable. The wolf untangled himself and stood with no small amount of relief, tucking his cock away as he stared down at the sleeping blond. The Fable's body was covered in bruises and scratches, his neck a bloody mess. Blue had never been more appealing. No one should be allowed to see this but Bigby.

He gathered up the blond’s clothes, tucking them awkwardly into his back pockets before bundling Blue up in the blanket and into his arms. It was a testament just how out of it Blue was that the blond didn’t stir once, even as Bigby carefully maneuvered them down the fire escape and into his apartment (where’d he apparently left his keys hanging stupidly - yet conveniently - in the door knob). He gave a spare thought to the boombox and cooler before deciding he’d get them tomorrow. The wolf didn’t like the idea of leaving Blue, not so soon after a mating.

He stripped quickly, dipping into the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth and the kitchen for a glass of water before returning to the bedroom. Blue let out a sleepy protest as Bigby carefully cleaned his neck (but not his ass, the idea of cleaning his cum off of Blue was repugnant) and then his own mouth and chin before tossing the reddened cloth away.

“Lazy,” Blue admonished, watching him from underneath his eyelashes, “the hampers like an inch away.”

Bigby chuckled; even Blue’s nagging was welcomed after how quiet his apartment had gotten over the last few months. He stretched out in bed, Blue curling around him immediately. Bigby wrapped his arm around the lithe frame, nuzzling Blue’s crown. “I’ll get it in the morning.”

“That’s what you always say,” the boy grumbled as he squirmed and wiggled until his face was hidden in the crook of Bigby’s neck, his arms against his side, and his hands tucked inside the wolf's armpit. Bigby watched him with amusement, holding his arm up until Blue had settled before letting it drop again, “but you never do.”

“Not really, no.” Bigby admitted with a smirk, “but you will.”

“Jerk.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting into.” It wasn’t like Bigby’s apartment had ever been clean unless Blue cleaned it.

“Did you mean it?” Blue’s voice was small in the dark space. “The mating bite?”

Bigby ran a thumb over his neck, feeling the healed, raised skin that would be a perfect copy of his teeth. It was the ultimate proof that Blue had some wolf in him – Bigby's bite would have healed over completely if he hadn’t.

“Yeah, I meant it.”

“Even though I’m not Snow?” Blue pressed, curling tighter against Bigby.

“I’ve had three months to think this out, Blue. I don’t want Snow.” The wolf said with a sigh, forcing Blue’s face from its hiding place. There was a tender hope in Blue’s eyes, so small and fragile and gorgeous. “And before you ask, it’s not because you’re a mixed-breed either – which I didn’t know, by the way.”

“What?” Blue’s head shot up, confused.

“You don’t smell like wolf.”

“Then how–”

“Bufkin.”

“That little – I’m going to make him into a pair of slippers.” Blue muttered darkly, head dropping to rest against Bigby’s shoulders. “That was private information, you asshole.” Then, quieter, “I was gonna tell you about it, you know…before. I just didn’t know how to. My ma made we swear to never tell anyone, she hated it so much. The only time she ever raised a hand to me was when she caught me eating a chicken raw in the barns when I was a kid. I don’t even know if my dad knew.”

“It’s fine.” Bigby hummed, running a hand over Blue’s spine, filing that information away for a long conversation they’d be having at another time. Right now, he was fucking tired. He yawned, reaching out to turn the table fan on. “Go to sleep.”  

“But, Bigby–”

“What?”

“You never answered me,” Blue sounded embarrassed, “why you did it, I mean.”

The wolf groaned, arm hitching around Blue’s waist as he pulled him up the bed. The kiss was slick-soft, gentle in a way that Bigby never was – in a way most everyone thought him incapable of. Nothing more than a brief point of contact, a physical embodiment of the overwhelming affection Bigby felt.

“Oh.” Blue said when the wolf pulled away. Than, again, _“oh.”_

“Yeah,” Bigby agreed, pulling his mate close, “now go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! They've mated, thank god. Up next we have Snow's (and Fabletown's) reactions as the duo 'come out of the closet,' as well as the mpeg (do we want mpreg? There's probably gonna be mpreg). And the second half of the plot in general. 
> 
> Also, would you guys like a one-shot interlude of the elevator blow job? Because I'm a pervert and I can do this.
> 
> As always thank you so much for the support!


	6. A Wolf's Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was his favorite time of day. For just a few precious moments the bustle and worry of the city was far away. There was nothing but this; the soft woosh of the table fan, the scent and sound of his mate, and the play of the sun as it crept across the morning sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again!
> 
> Un-beated.
> 
> Mostly relationship fluff.

**July 3rd, 1987**

It was painfully early; the sun was just starting to peak through the blinds, casting the room in a strange pallor. Bigby had never really been an early riser, but he’d become one over the last year. This was his favorite time of day. For just a few precious moments the bustle of the city and the worry of his job were far away. There was nothing but this; the soft woosh of the table fan, the scent and sound of his content mate, and the play of the sun as it crept across their bedroom.

Blue was fast asleep, stretched on his back with both hands curled underneath the pillow above his head. It was literally the most vulnerable position Bigby could think of, yet Blue slept soundly. It made the wolf incredibly pleased to see, knowing that his mate felt safe enough with Bigby nearby to sleep like the dead.

The boy was as handsome as ever, blond hair grown slightly shaggy, pretty features smooth in sleep. Bigby ran his hand down Blue’s front in a gentle stroke, ignoring the way the cotton caught on his roughened palms. It was from some ridiculous superhero movie that had come out years ago that Blue and his group of friends adored. The villain – some faux-Asian guy – smirked up at him, the phrase _‘Chillin’ Like A Villain’_ sprawled across Blue’s chest. His apartment had become filled with random knickknacks that mostly related in some way or another to some scifi or fantasy series.

Blue had unofficially moved into Bigby’s apartment last September. His own place was still in his name though, so that Flycatcher and Pinocchio could live there under the stupidly low rent. Blue’s rent was standardized and docked by the Fabletown government as a reward for his outstanding service during the war and with how tough things had been lately it only made sense to keep it in his name so that his friends wouldn’t have to worry as much.

But Blue was living with him in all but name, and it was reflected in the extra dresser, stuffed closet, and the sofa that had replaced his abused chair. Posters were up on the walls, Bigby’s dishes all matched (even if they bore incredibly dorky patterns, like the set of glasses which bore the symbol of the Avenger's members on them), and he’d begun putting his dirty clothes in the hamper with alarming regularity.

His fingers slid underneath the t-shirt, pushing the fabric up until the firm valley of Blue’s abs was revealed. He traced the soft ridges, following the dip down to the slight ‘v’ of his hips, smirking as his mate sighed, head lulling to the side. He dipped past the waist line of his boxers (they had a print of the wolfman, much to Bigby’s amusement and undeniable pleasure) and carded through the thick, curly pubic hair.

The dirty blond looked shocking against the tan of his fingers and Bigby played with the whorls of hair, smirk growing dirtier at the satin feel of Blue’s morning erection brushing against the back of his hand. He eased the boxers down past the boy’s balls, licking his lips as he took in the sight. Blue’s cock had a sharp curve to it, fatter than it was long, with an uncut head that bloomed a ruddy red when aroused. As he cupped it, rolling the helmet around his palm, Bigby filled his lungs with the potent scent of arousal leaking from his mate.

His palm was already growing slick from the pre-cum and Bigby leaned down greedily to lap gently at the head. Blue moaned, but slept on. His taste was exquisite, like the finest of wines on the wolf’s tongue. He sucked lightly on it, letting his drool trail down the length before pulling away and blowing on it.

The cock jumped at the cool air, Blue’s hips twitching as the blond let out a breathy whimper. Grinning Bigby pulled back, eyes flickering to check if his mate still slept before slowly rolling him onto his side. Bigby eased the back of the boxers down, slipping his own achingly hard cock out from the fly of his boxers. He spit into his hand, spreading it and his own pre-cum liberally around the flesh, before plastering himself across Blue’s back.

He slid his cock into the warm grip of Blue’s thighs, barely catching his groan in time to silence it, canting his hips so his turgid length rested between Blue’s firm cheeks and cock. He mouthed at the boy’s neck, kisses and licks returning to the raised mating mark again and again, his hand pumping Blue’s cock as he began to slowly rock.

A year into his matehood, Bigby couldn’t even begin to comprehend that he’d almost given this up. Blue fit perfectly into his life, like a tailored glove. It was more than just the wolf-instincts that made the blond such a good mate – though Bigby wouldn’t lie, he found their presence incredibly pleasing.

Now that he knew to look, Bigby found they were present more often than not in Blue’s actions and habits. They were muted, quiet, and sometimes Bigby felt like they were speaking different dialects but they were there, reflected in almost everything Blue did. Bigby had spent much of the past year subtly testing the boy’s senses and while they were weaker than his own, they were still far superior then most Fables. His sense of smell in particular was very strong, nearly matching Bigby’s own.  

In wolf culture Blue would be what was called a beta male. Wolf packs were highly regimented things and rankings were always a direct relation to strength; the strongest wolf won the leadership status of ‘Alpha’ through raw force – and held it through intelligence.

The majority of wolves were betas, general members who aided in the everyday running of the pack and implemented the alpha’s will. The lowest of the low in pack hierarchy was the omega; the weakest wolf either in strength or personality (and more often than not in both.) When Bigby had been born, he’d been an omega in – at least his mind – name only. Yeah, he may have been the runt of the litter physically, but Bigby had a will of iron and an attitude to match. He’d done everything in his power to get bigger and stronger practically from birth. Even if he only claimed Blue as pack, Bigby was an alpha. He’d beaten the shit out of all his brothers to prove it so years and years ago.

His thrusts were starting to grow longer and less smooth, his breath a pant against his mate’s neck. Blue’s breathing was ragged as well, hips starting to meet Bigby’s strokes. He’d never had imagined his mate would be a male. Bigby had always thought it be a bitch – a female or a male breeder – someone he would eventually settle down and make a family with. But the wolf didn’t regret his decision at all; Blue was perfect.

It had taken Bigby some time to convince Blue of that though. The boy had been incredibly insecure in the beginning, especially about Snow. Bigby could understand it, he had rejected Blue once and while he’d been striving for honesty it seemed his explanation about having two mate-scents appeal to him did more harm than good. Blue had been jealous and possessive, driven by their recent mating to secure his position. It wouldn’t have been such an issue if Bigby didn’t live and work in such close proximity with Snow.

For Snow’s part, the woman seemed somewhat confused yet relieved by the discontinuance of Bigby’s attentions. And Bigby had ceased persuing her. He’d meant what he said to Blue, wolves didn’t take multiple mates unless they’d been widowed and that sort of commitment wasn't something he'd ever take lightly. Bigby had spent nearly every waking moments in between talking with Holly and meeting Blue going over what he wanted.

And what he wanted was Blue.

Even Snow’s scent had changed for him; after mating Blue, Bigby found her once sweet scent almost too saccharine. No, that chapter of Bigby’s live was firmly over. Bigby had made his decision, had committed to it with everything that he had. It was Blue or no one.

He’d eventually managed to convince Blue of that, though it had taken almost seven months and one hell of a knockdown, drag out fight that had ended up with them exhausted not only from screaming but from the vicious fuck that had followed it. Bigby had come to understand the depth of how badly he’d hurt the blond that night. Bigby had smelt like mate to Blue too and the wolf’s rejection of him had been far more devastating than any simple ‘breakup.’ For the second time in his life, Blue had felt like he'd lost his future.

It made him want to go back in time and beat the fuck out his blind, moronic self, but as that was impossible Bigby settled with making it up to Blue every night in bed. Bigby’s erratic schedule left much to be desired on that front, but he did what he could. It was hardly surprising given his nature, but Bigby found himself stupidly protective of the younger male, wanting him around always. Blue was either very understanding or else he felt the same way, as he was more than game to spend his free time in Bigby’s office, which suited the wolf just fine. He liked knowing where his mate was, liked to know he was safe. And there was nowhere safer for him to be than with Bigby.

His completion was approaching quickly, a contented rumble escaping his chest as he pulled his hips back just enough for his cock to rub against the sensitive pouch of Blue’s balls. He increased the pressure of his hand, using every trick he’d learn to send Blue over the edge. The boy woke as he crested, crying out in pleasured confusion as his hands flew to where Bigby was holding him, gripping tightly. “Bigby!”

The wolf bit down lightly on the raised scar, grunting as his knot flared and his cock erupted, covering every inch of Blue’s privates with his cum. And his scent. He gathered his mate into his arms, pressing a kiss to the curve of Blue’s ear as the blond curled tightly into his chest.

“You possessive bastard,” Blue moaned, “now I’m even more tired.”

“Call off.”

There was a sharp nip against the bottom of his jaw; an act of irritation and annoyance, but more of submission than anything else. “You know we can’t afford that. Besides, it’s a short shift and we’ve got the party later.”

Bigby shrugged, biting lightly against the captured ear. “It’s our anniversary,” – and fuck, wasn’t that a thing that he’d never imagined passing his lips – “you can take a day off.”

It was also why there was a party, courtesy of Holly and Gren. Bigby hadn’t seen it coming, but apparently the troll had taken an instant liking to Blue. So had Gren, for that matter. Then again it was pretty hard to dislike Boy Blue, he was just too easy going and honestly _good_ for that. Outside of Pinocchio – who was Blue’s best friend – and Flycatcher – who probably couldn’t hold a grudge or dislike someone if he tried - the regulars at the Trip Trap had oddly enough been the most accepting of their relationship. Bigby was earnestly grateful for that, because while he was more than used to being judged and gossiped about by the whole of Fabletown, it was a new experience for his mate. Well, at least this was the first time it had been a negative thing.

Blue shook his head, squirming out of Bigby’s hold. He glanced at the bathroom and Bigby eyes narrowed at the thought of Blue washing off his scent, but the boy seemed to dismiss the idea as soon as it had come, pulling on his uniform instead.

“Blue.”

“Don’t make this harder on me,” the blond griped as he tied on his apron, “you know I want to stay in bed. And hurry up if you’re coming, we’re already running late.”

He’d taken to escorting Blue to and from work. It had started last September when the rest of Fabletown become aware of their relationship. It had gone about as well as Bigby had been expecting. Well, in truth, some had been here so long that they didn’t give much of a shit but the majority of the population was disapproving. More than one Fable had approached Blue when he’d been at work or out and about to do everything from offer words of advice to try and warn him away from Bigby - sometimes by telling him their past experiences with the Big Bad Wolf.

He’d let it go for the most part, but even Bigby had his limits – and he was not a Fable known for his patience by any means. When Blue had been late coming home one chilly day late in September, a worried Bigby had stepped out of the Woodlands with the intentions of tracking down his errant mate and scented blood and had seen red.

_It took all of his reserves to keep from transforming, but Bigby knew that his sclera were yellow, his irises a bright, angry red. He was still inside Fabletown proper and all around him Fable and human alike scattered from his path. Blue’s blood-scent was growing stronger and the smell of it made his nails bite into his palm, his teeth into his lips._

_It lead him to an abandoned alleyway that curved behind the main stretch of stores in Fabletown. It served as a trash holder, back porch, and narrow playground to the poorest Fables. Completely surrounded by Fable businesses and apartments and with a sharp ninety-degree turn it was not uncommon to find Fables there playing un-glamoured and yet it was suspiciously abandoned of life. At this hour windows were usually thrown open, older Fables sitting on their back stoops while the children played._

_He could hear Blue before he even entered it._

_“I appreciate the intention behind what you’re trying to do – actually, no I don’t. Get the fuck out of my way, John.”_

_“You’re not_ listening _to me, Boy Blue. I don’t know what Bigby’s got on you, but I’m here to help you!” A heavily accent voice pleaded, strained and worried. “And not just me, there are so many of us ready to help hide you. You never got to see Bigby as the Big Bad Wolf, but I did!”_

_“A monster like that isn’t capable of love.” A second, female voice pressed urgently._

_A third voice was quick to jump in. “You have no idea, or you’d never have-”_

_“Shut your fucking mouth,” Blue interrupted, tone glacial, “before I shut it for you. Or I’ll have Bigby do it for you.”_

_Bigby felt a flare of pride – both at his mate’s pluck and quick defense of him and that’d he scented Bigby’s approach – and stepped around the corner._

_John Schreier – better known (ironically) as the Boy Who Cried Wolf – had his mate corned in the very rear of the alleyway, the twins Jack and Jill by his side. The three escaped from the same village back in Albion and Bigby wasn’t surprised to see them together; the trio were rarely apart._

_He let out a low growl, furious at the streak of red dripping from Blue’s palm. The three jumped like they’d been shocked, staring at him with assorted looks of horror and dread. His hand curled into a fist, cracking loudly in the narrow space._

_“Bigby,” John squeaked, the whites of his eyes visible as he glanced around frantically, “uh, this isn’t what it looks like.”_

_“Which one of you fuckers touched him?” He spat around a snarl, sharp teeth on full display._

_“T-Touched?” John sputtered._

_“The cut you idiotic fool!” Jill said quickly, shrinking behind her brother as Bigby’s head snapped to stare at her._

_“Now just hold on, Sheriff.” Jack said slowly, a hand spreading out to block not only his sister but Blue, as if Blue ever needed his protection. “No one laid a hand on him, we were just talking.”_

_“They’re telling the truth.” Blue said, smacking Jack’s hand away with a harsh glare. “I cut myself on a broken pipe when these_ assholes _scared the living shit out of me and pulled me into the alleyway. What the fuck where you thinking anyway? You’re lucky I’ve got good control or I could have broken your neck, John.”_

_His mate crossed the divide and Bigby pulled the blond into his arms the moment he came within reach, eyes still locked on the trio. Blue settled immediately, arm curling around the wolf’s waist while he tucked his head against Bigby’s shoulder._

_“Which brings me to my main point of confusion here;_ do you not know who I am? _Bigby isn’t forcing me into anything. He’s not blackmailing me, he’s not bribing me, he’s not beating me. I chose to be with him, because I love him –”_

_Bigby started slightly, but even his surprise wasn’t enough to override his need to keep the three Fables in his sight._

_“ – and if it was anything like that, I’m pretty sure that I’m not the type of Fable to go quietly. One of us would be dead.” The blond finished with a scoff, standing on his toes to brush a handful of kisses against Bigby’s jaw. It was a blatant appeasement act, but Bigby still found the hard ball in his stomach uncurling at it. “Come on, Big Bad. Let's leave these idiots, I want to go home and clean my hand.”_

_It was the last thing that Bigby wanted to do. He wanted to teach these punks a lesson for ever daring to touch Blue, for even looking at him. The heat of his anger was at the idea that so many doubted his commitment to his mate, that they would question the sanctity of their matehood._

_But Blue was injured and that won out over all. His growls echoed angrily around them even as he ushered Blue out of the alleyway and he threw once last snarl over his shoulder just to see the trio flinch before stepping back out into the light._

_Once on the street he stopped and gently pulled the injured hand up. The cut wasn’t very large or deep, but injuries to the hands always bled a lot. He turned the palm to and fro, using the sun to examine the wound for any glass or dirt that may have gotten in it. Blue’s irritated expression softened at the act, his other hand coming up to cup Bigby’s face, fingers running over the raised, wolfish bumps of his features._

_“I’ve had worse, Biggs.”_

_“It shouldn’t have happened.”_

_“No,” the blond agreed softly, sighing as he took in the store owners and renters who were watching them unashamedly, “but we knew something like this may happened. But it’s alright, I’m not hurt and you came to my rescue.”_

_“Why didn’t you just handle it?” Bigby asked, curious and annoyed. Blue was more than capable of taking out wastes of spaces like John Shreier and the J-twins._

_“I don’t do that anymore.” Blue explained, voice even. “Not unless I have to.”_

_Bigby sighed, but didn’t press the issue. He curled his larger hand protectively over Blue’s injured one and began the trek back to the Woodlands. The sooner they were out of the public eye, the sooner Bigby could calm down and lower the chance of exposing himself to any Mundies._

There hadn’t been anything so extreme again, but they’d had a long conversation that night which ended with Blue promising Bigby that should he ever be in actual danger he’d use his fighting abilities. The wolf understood that after the violence of the war Blue wanted to space himself as much as possible from that life, but Bigby had a lot of enemies – the Crooked Man had shown him that – and he needed to know Blue would protect himself.

But just because Blue had promised he would defend himself didn’t mean that Bigby hadn’t taken to shadowing his mate around whenever possible. Blue was just too much to lose, especially when he was all Bigby had.

“Bigby,” Blue called from the kitchen, “hurry up or I’m eating your eggs.”

Rolling his eyes, the wolf threw the blankets off and made his way into the kitchen, scratching at his scruff.

“For the love of – put some pants on!” His mate said sharply as he plated Bigby’s food. “And seriously, we’re going to be late. You know I’m on thin ice because _someone_ just couldn’t keep his hands to himself in the bathroom.”

“You were asking for it.”

Blue gaped at him. “I was covered in half a pint of strawberry syrup.”

It had reminded him of blood and the idea of his mate covered in (someone else’s) blood had been quite erotic to Bigby, leaving him with a raging boner in the coffee house lobby. He’d taken no small amount of joy in licking the sticky substance off, nor using it as impromptu lube to finger the blond as he sucked him off, and the taste of strawberry was unexpected complimentary to Blue’s cum. “Like I said, asking for it.”

“Biggs, we’ve got to get you into some sexual awareness training.” Blue said with a sigh, hands on his hips, “I mean you’re the sheriff for christ’s sake, you can’t just be saying rapey things like that.”

Bigby shrugged, itching his ass as he drank from the orange juice carton. “You like it.”

“You’re right,” Blue drawled, amused, “but I speak Bigby, so I can rationalize it into something less creepy. Now get dressed or else I really am going to eat your eggs.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I dare. Pants. Shirt. Tie.” He pointed a fork at Bigby threateningly. “Quickly now, my hunger was hardly sated by own measly breakfast of toast.”

Bigby rolled his eyes but made his way back into the bedroom. Blue did make some killer eggs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every wolf wants a pack, even a small one. Mpreg is still a go, just wait for it...
> 
> Thanks for reading. For those of you following my Hannibal story, I'm hoping if work is tame enough today to be able to get the next one up today or tomorrow. I probably will have another one of this up soon as well, this story just will not leave me alone!


	7. Interlude: A Wolf's Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween was Sheriff Bigby Wolf’s least favorite holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed porn.
> 
> Yup.
> 
> Just porn.
> 
> ((And the start of the relationship.))

**November 1st, 1985**

Halloween was Sheriff Bigby Wolf’s least favorite holiday. The whole of New York City was buzzing with activity, people of all ages dressed to the nine in costumes. Fabletown was no different; it too was crowded with hustling children trying to get as much candy and adult partiers trying to get their own joy in before the day ended and the lax rules of Halloween ended. The costume part…well, not so much.

Bigby let some of it go; those Fables that were humanoid enough looking to get away with being a human with  a 'really good costume' he ignored. But those that were taking advantage of it, either to have a night glamor-free when they knew they shouldn’t (like the Fox brothers, who couldn’t pass as human’s even if they had most of the Hollywood’s special effect teams on their side and yet wanted to go to Brooklyn) or to use their powers out in the open, Bigby showed no leniency.

It was close to four in the morning – Halloween over by hours – and Bigby was finally heading back to his place. He was doing one last swing of the neighborhood before heading towards the Woodlands, mainly so he could stop by the Branstock Tavern which was having a massive Halloween party. The music was still blaring loudly from the bar, but Bigby had already stopped in earlier so he wasn’t planning on going in now. He’d already been assured by the owners that they would (at least) obey the New York liquor laws and stop selling at four even if the party ended up continuing into the morning hours. The last thing they needed were Mundie cops trying to ticket or arrest anyone for selling out of hours.

As he turned the corner and passed the darken windows of the Stone Soup restaurant, the door to the Branstock flung open. Little Boy Blue stepped out, calling a fair well into the Tavern behind him. The street lights caught his hair, making the blond seem almost like spun gold. He was shirtless, dressed as a firefighter in a pair of mustard yellow pants with reflective green and grey stripes on it, bright neon orange suspenders, and blue rubber boots. Blue’s appearance had never quite aged past the late teenage years, but while his appearance may be boyish it was devoid of almost all fat and tightly packed with lean muscles. The Fable looked healthy and beautiful in the night light, the costume showing off his well-shaped forearms and broad shoulders, the tight plain of his back and the graceful curve of his lower back.

Bigby’s tongue darted across his lip without thought, his feet slowing to a stop on their own, eyes sweeping over the naked back before resting on the plump, round ass so outlined by the tight costume pants. Boy Blue’s scent had always appealed to Bigby, it had from the very first moment he’d met the blond. But despite this and the fact that Blue lived a floor above him in the Woodlands, the two rarely interacted.

That suited Bigby just fine; he wasn’t quite comfortable with the strange feelings Blue’s scent aroused in him.

Blue turned, bright blue eyes catching sight of Bigby instantly. Oddly neither spoke, just watched each other through the handful of feet that separated them. The air seemed heavy suddenly, Blue’s scent was tainted with alcohol, but still strong and appealing as it wafted between them, and the moment seemed to extend forever – just the two of them watching each other to the deep, reverberating base of the Tavern music. Slowly Blue’s lips curled into a small, secretive smile, eyes crinkling slightly.

The door to the Tavern opened suddenly, interrupting the moment as John Schreier stumbled out. Schreier (better known to most as the Boy Who Cried Wolf) had been a thorn in Bigby’s side long since before they’d traveled to the Mundie world. Back in Albion, Schreier had nearly met his death at Bigby’s jaws when the wolf had come to visit his flock. He’d been a boy then, one who apparently got a kick out frightening his village half to death by shouting that the Big Bad Wolf was attacking the village.

Bigby hadn’t ended up eating him (the brat was loud and honestly, he’d only wanted a sheep or six) but Schreier had lost his job as a herder and had been kicked out of his village. The timing had been unfortunate, as being on your own at that time wasn’t easy nor safe with the Enemy encroaching on their territories. Schreier took to blaming Bigby for all his troubles and made it his life’s mission to sing out Bigby’s faults and remind folks of his violent past. The Fable wanted nothing more than to see Bigby run out of town and was constantly trying to rile the community up against him. He’d done better in the Mundie world than he ever did in the Homeland, his handsome good looks and tall height working in his favor in such a shallow city as New York.

Schreier was dressed up as a cop (in short-shorts and a sleeveless top, it was no uniform Bigby had ever seen before) his cover angled on his head. The Fable’s eyes were focused on Blue, expression hungry, and he was just drunk enough to miss Bigby’s presence completely. “Ya leavin’ us Blue?” Schreier slurred, curling his arm around the shorter Fable’s shoulders. Bigby bristled harshly at the sight, lips tugging into a fierce frown. “Come on, stay a bit later. The party’s jus’ startin’!”

“No can do, Johnny,” Blue said with an easy smile, “I’m dead on my feet. Really need to get to bed."

Schreier leaned in close, lips brushing against Blue’s ear and missing the blond’s look of distaste. Bigby could understand, he could smell the bourbon from where he stood. “Well, I can think of several ways to keep the fun going off your feet. And in your bed.”

Blue’s expression was less than impressed. “I dunno, Johnny, somehow I don’t think you’re up to it.”

“Oh,” Schreier leered, shifting closer until his hips were almost riding against Blue’s, “trust me Boy, I’m up.”

Bigby had seen enough. “I believe the term Boy Blue’s looking for here is ‘whiskey dick,’ Schreier,” he growled out. Schreier paled, nearly jumping away from the blond, eyes large and startled as he caught sight of the sheriff. “You ever heard the phrase ‘no means no,’ John?” He asked as he took a threating step forward, “or are you drunk and stupid?”

“Thank you, Sheriff. Johnny, it was nice seeing you. Sort of. Goodnight.” Blue interrupted dryly, before throwing a wave to Schreier and beginning the short walk to the Woodlands, which was located right next to the Tavern.

Bigby fell into step behind the blond when Schreier gave an aborted attempt to follow, glaring harshly at the Fable. Schreier paled further before retreating inside the Branstock. _Fucking prick,_ Bigby thought darkly, abnormally enraged by what had happened. The image of Schreier against Blue stayed with him, making fury roll underneath his skin and his hands curl at his side. Grimble was (unsurprisingly) asleep at the desk, but Bigby barely gave him a glance before following Blue into the ancient elevator. The Fable lookes at him as he called the elevator.

“I suppose I should thank you, Sheriff,” he teased, that small, secretive smile on his face once more, “for riding in on your white horse to save me.”

“Schreier is a dick.”

Blue laughed, the sound clear and overly loud, head thrown back as he chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, Johnny’s a real gent.”

The elevator door pinged open and the two stepped inside. As soon as he did, Bigby wished he hadn’t. Blue’s smell was like a sucker punch in the small space, laced not only with the scent of rum but with a strong undercurrent of lust. Bigby shifted, uncomfortably with his answering interest, staring intently at the door as he willed the old and shaky machine to work. The doors finally slid shut, the elevator jerking as it began its slow crawl up.  

“But it was partially my fault,” Blue admitted with a hum, “I was grinding on him pretty hard back at the Branstock.”

Bigby’s eyes darted to the side to look at him, before quickly looking away. The harsh lighting of the elevator had done nothing to detract from Blue’s body, highlighting the tight muscles of his pecs and stomach. 

“I didn’t realize John Schreier was your type.” He said sourly and barely hid his wince at the words. He didn’t give a shit about who was Little Boy Blue’s type was, let him fuck whatever trash hwe wanted to. Bigby’s hands fisted by his side, jaw tightening as he stared resolutely at the glowing numbers, determined to just ignore the blond standing next to him.

“Oh, John’s not my type.” Blue announced with a shrug, “but his dick is.” Bigby couldn’t help it; he did a double take, staring blatantly at Blue, unsure he’d heard him right. Blue just grinned. “I’m a size queen.”

“Excuse me?”

Blue’s smile grew even wider, more wicked.

“It means that I like big dicks.” The Fable’s eyes ran over Bigby’s form in an unashamed once over, stilling pointedly over the wolf’s groin. “Can’t help it,” a tongue darted out across a full bottom lip, “there’s something inside me that just loves being split open and just…forced to take it.” Those startling blue’s flickered back up to his face, “you know what I mean?”

Bigby didn’t.

Never once in his life had Bigby Wolf ever felt the urge to be taken by a man. Hell, he’d never even really looked at a male – human or not – in that manner. Never, that is, until Blue. He couldn’t deny his interest now, Blue’s words igniting a surge of want so strong in his stomach that Bigby could smell it. He could smell his own arousal leaking out into the air around them, mixing with Blue’s in the most tempting of colognes.

“It actually kind of sucks,” he continued with a sigh, “it’s hard to find guys big enough that are willing to do the things I want. Johnny – I could feel he’s big, but he’s too much of a whimp to put me in my place.”

His cock was rock hard and Bigby knew his erection was easy to see in his tan slacks. Completely on its own accord his mind filled with the image of Blue on his stomach, pinned flat by the neck as Bigby feed his cock inside that perky little ass until he was knot deep and –

 “Blue,” Bigby warned, voice half-hearted to his own ears as the shorter Fable took a step forward, halving the space between them. He swallowed harshly, the sound audible to his sensitive ears, and Blue’s face turned almost feral.

“But I bet you could.” Blue all but purred, his scent ratcheting up until it was stifling, “I bet you could make me submit, couldn’t you Big Bad?” _Fuck,_ why was Blue doing this? Bigby didn’t know if he wanted to slap him or kiss him, anything to stop those enticing words, “guess that just leaves one question.”

Bigby snarled into the blond’s face, but Blue didn’t even flinch as he boldly cupped the wolf’s erection. Blue’s eyes fluttered, his palm impossibly hot through the material. 

The elevator doors dinged open onto the second floor.

The blond squeezed his cock once, hold tight and unforgiving, before he took a step back. Blue moved back to his side of the elevator, looking completely unruffled and unbothered, and Bigby would have believed the whole encounter hadn’t affected him at all if it hadn’t been for the heavy lust that was leaking from Blue.

“This is your floor, Big Bad.”

The elevator doors began to close.

Bigby didn’t move.

Blue turned to look at him, a single eyebrow raised in question and Bigby was _done._ He shot forward, slamming the blond into the opposite wall hard enough to shake the carriage, pinning Blue by his neck.

“You fucking tease,” the wolf growled out, hand squeezing the delicate column, “didn’t your mother ever warn you not to tease the dog?”

Incredibly Blue’s arousal only seemed to grow. His legs slid further apart, opening his hips up to press against his own. Bigby growled at the feel of Blue’s erection against his thigh, the sound angry and threatening, and Blue let out a whimper in response, the sound delicious and stupidly attractive.  

His grip tightened and Blue’s lips parted in a harsh pant, eyes bright with mischief as he stared up at him, “and here…I thought…you were…a wolf.”

Bigby sneered, sharp teeth fully on display as his hand shot out, hitting the emergency stop button and stilling the elevator seconds before it would have opened to the third floor. He released his neck, hand fisting in Blue’s thick hair instead. “Put your mouth to better use.”

It was madness.

All of this was madness.

But Bigby couldn’t bring himself to stop, not when Blue was scrambling with his pants, tugging his zipper down and working his thick and hot cock free eagerly. He watched, his own mouth parted in disbelief as Blue moaned hungrily at the sight of his naked cock, rubbing his cheek shamelessly along its length. “Oh yeah, Big Bad, you’re just right.”

Bigby’s retort died on his tongue, eyes closing as he leaned heavily against the elevator door, cock twitching as it was enveloped into Blue’s warm, wet mouth. He kept his hand in Blue’s hair, his grip just enough to be tight but not enough to be truly painful, gaze locked on where his cock was disappearing in and out of Blue’s mouth, his pink lips strained around his girth.

God, Blue was good at this. The idea sent an unexpected spear of jealously though the wolf, his grip tightening as he forced his cock further into Blue’s mouth. The blond took it with only a slight hitch, adjusting to take as much of Bigby’s cock as he could. Who had Blue learned to do this from? Who had felt this moist heaven that was Blue’s mouth?

The sheer knowledge that someone else had been there – that this could have easily been John fucking Schreier here in his place, made Bigby hot with anger. He stilled Blue, hips rolling sharply as he fucked the blond’s mouth, irritation only growing as Blue let him, taking the face-fucking with a practice ease. “You’d let anyone do this to you wouldn’t you?” He snarled out, infuriated, “all you care about is being fucked. Slut.”

There was a sharp pain as teeth scraped against the sensitive skin of his shaft and Bigby growled, yanking Blue’s head off roughly. The blond glared up at him, blue eyes livid, teeth barred and strangely threatening despite the strings of spit that connected his lips to Bigby’s still hard cock. “I’m not a slut just because I know what I want.”

Bigby’s grip loosened, ashamed at his own dark emotion and words, and he carded his fingers through Blue’s hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in apology. “I know you’re not.”

Blue watched him for a moment longer, gaze darting from eye to eye searchingly before leaning back into the pet, head cocking slightly to the side and showing off the long, graceful line of his neck. Bigby lips twitched before he pulled the blond to his feet, capturing his mouth in an intense kiss. He could taste himself there, among the traces of the drinks Blue had been imbibing all night, but most of it was just Blue.

Just the concentrated form of that scent that had haunted him for all these years.

Blue let out a sigh, hands pressing instantly between the buttons of his shirt until they popped, hands splaying wide as they tugged at his chest hair. Bigby moved the blond’s head into a better angle, deepening the kiss as his free hand slide easily beneath Blue’s costume pants. His cock throbbed, jumping harshly from where it was pressed up against Blue’s satiny stomach skin, when he found nothing else. He ran his hand along the curve of Blue’s ass, delighting in the feel of naked skin, before following the round mound to Blue’s crack, fingers pressing instantly against his tight pucker. Blue broke the kiss with a moan, back arching as he pressed wantonly against the digits.

“Back pocket,” he panted, nipping at Bigby’s chin and neck, “back right.”

Bigby obeyed, scowling when he found a small packet of lube there. He ignored the implications, tearing the packet open with his mouth before coating his fingers generously. The first, second, and third went in with barely any resistance despite Blue being dry, and the younger Fable groaned, head resting against Bigby’s shoulder as he squeezed the invading fingers tightly.

The inside of Blue felt perfect.

Bigby could find no other way to describe it, and the thought of his cock encased in such a warm, tight place was overwhelming. Bigby felt drunk on Blue’s arousal, head bent low as he pressed his nose against Blue’s neck, inhaling the heady scent greedily. He was four fingers deep, his wrist smarting from the angle, when Blue began to beg.

“Please,” Blue gasped, “please Bigby,” his fingers were scrambling against Bigby’s back, the blunt nails harmless against the fabric of his shirt, “oh god, I’m ready, I promise. Gotta – gotta have you in me. I need – I need to feel you. _Please.”_

The wolf snarled, flipping Blue and pinning him face first against the fake paneling as he tore the pants down, snapping the suspenders and leaving the brightly colored things to hang loosely around the blond’s narrow sides. “It’ll be rough,” he ground out, his voice low and gravelly. There was no lube left in the packet; Bigby was dry save for what Blue’s mouth had left on him. “It’ll hurt.”

“Don’t care.” Blue gasped, ass and hips wiggling and Bigby’s breath caught, stomach flip-flopping as Blue suddenly presented, back curving sublimely. There was no way the Fable could have possibly have known what he was doing – what the move would do to the wolf in Bigby, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Or to stop.

He pressed his cock-head to Blue’s tight pucker, the wide helmet popping in with a sharp gasp from Blue, but Bigby didn’t slow. Not until the swelling skin at his base was pressed snuggly against Blue’s ass.

Blue let out a low whine, channel tightening and relaxing around his length. “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

He had no idea. Blue felt…Bigby groaned, curling around the smaller form as he began to thrust, hands bruising against the blond’s hips as he held Blue in place. It was an unstoppable thing now. Nothing – not even someone breaking down the elevator doors – could stop this now. The small space was filled to the brim with their mingled scents, the sounds of Bigby’s snarls and growls and Blue’s whimpering moans so loud it left no mystery to what was happening. Time seemed irrelevant; the only thing that mattered was the tight, hot pull of Blue’s insides against his cock, how his sex-heavy scent filled every inch of Bigby’s lungs, the sound of his name panted in the cadence of each thrust.

His knot was plumping quickly, blood rushing from his head and leaving Bigby feeling light headed and rapturous as Blue’s rim tugged with a growing resistance on each outward thrust. Had Bigby been thinking clearly he would have pulled out, would have spared the boy the feel of his rock-hard knot in a barely prepared passage, but in that moment all he had was instinct. Instinct and a truly monstrous dry spell. It'd been so long - so, so long - since anyone had let him this close, much less let him inside them.

The sound Blue made when Bigby tied him was as nearly as overwhelming as the snug feel of his muscles around him. His hands flew back, tangling harshly in Bigby’s hair as he howled, entire body shaking. “Bite me,” he managed hoarsely, “do it damn yo-”

The wolf obeyed without thought, biting hard but (just) keeping himself from drawling blood. Blue came violently, spunk coating the cheap wood before dripping down, filling Bigby’s nose with a salty-version of his scent that he knew he’d crave forever now. Blue went limp, held up only by the elevator wall and Bigby’s cock, hands going limp in his hair before slowly slidding down to hang by his side. His expression was one of bliss, lips parted in silent, heavy pants, eyes cloudy. Bigby’s knees buckled, weak as multiple orgasms tore through him, and the wolf only just managed to guide them down, Blue cradled carefully in his lap.

The blond let out a soft sound – a breathless little mew that made something inside Bigby swell possessively – and nuzzled back into him. Bigby turned into the movement, meeting Blue’s kiss, tongue sweeping across his parted lips. He pulled away, smirking at the dazed expression on Blue’s face. “Big enough for you, Blue?”

He was rewarded with a loopy smile, gentle and soft in a way that made affection surge across the wolf. “You’ll do.”

* * *

From his desk Grimble let out a low whistle of appreciation, shaking his head before hitting the eject button. He glanced at the VHS in thought for a moment, thumb running over the electrical tape that was placed over the non-record grove. With a shrug the troll pushed it back into the surveillance system, rewinding it past the couples arrival before pressing the red record button and settled back into his chair, hand tugging his cap low.

Kinky little fucks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked!


	8. A Wolf's Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed! Enjoy!

**February 18th, 1988**

Something was up.

From where he sat on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table – salt-covered boots on – Bigby watched his mate. Normally Blue would have been up his ass about that within seconds, but Blue was seemingly lost in his thoughts. The blond was curled up on Bigby’s favorite chair (long since wedged into the small space next to the TV and the wall corner, making the tiny space seem even tinier), warming underneath an afghan and an oversized knit sweater. His blue eyes were glazed and distant as he watched the heavy snow fall blanketing the city. He’d been like this since yesterday morning, Bigby’s normally attentive mate was absent minded and distant, and the night before he’d sat up alone for a long time after Bigby had gone to bed.

He knew for a fact that Blue had finally come to bed around three-thirty in the morning, the wolf awake and waiting, unable to quiet his mind enough to sleep while his mate was acting so oddly. Blue had climbed into bed, twisting and turning until Bigby finally rolled over and pinned the smaller Fable underneath the weight of his body. Only then did Blue finally drift off, his scent sour with some unnamed emotion.

Bigby didn’t push for answers (though it took all of his self-control to do so) deciding instead to wait for Blue to come to him. He’d learned the hard way that trying to force anything out of Boy Blue was a study in pointlessness; the boy’s mind was his own, he’d only share it when – and if – he decided to.

But that didn’t mean that he was happy about it.

The wolf’s instincts were going haywire, convinced that something was wrong his proud mate, and all Bigby wanted to do was push and prod until Blue told him what was going on. Because something was going on, Bigby knew it. He’d been protective of Blue since their relationship began, but what he’d been feeling the last few weeks was another level completely. He could hardly stand to have Blue out of his sight, going so far to lurk in the bookstore across from the coffee shop he worked at.

Bigby tried not to think much of it; he was a wolf after all and this was the longest relationship he’d ever been in. This could be completely normal. At least that was what he was hoping. It wasn’t like there was a community he could go an ask advice from. Outside of Blue, there were no other wolves – mixes or not – in Fabletown. Bigby’s memories of his parents' relationship wasn’t much help on that front;  they’d hardly been together at all and he had very few memories of them together. 

There was a click as the cup of tea Blue had been cradling was set down on the small coffee table. Blue stood, sheading the blanket like a second skin as he crossed the tiny space to Bigby. Bigby let his feet fall from the table, legs spreading to support Blue’s weight as his mate climbed into his lap.

Blue curled into him, head resting against Bigby’s shoulder, sighing as Bigby wormed his hands beneath the thick sweater and thin undershirt to the smooth expanse of Blue’s back. He stroked the blond’s flanks, turning his head to kiss lightly at Blue’s chin.

“Blue–” Bigby started, but Blue interrupted the thought with a shake of his head, curling even tighter around the wolf, arms linked behind Bigby’s neck. “Come on, kid. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

Blue pulled back, lips pursing as he sucked on his teeth in thought before he let out a weary sigh, a hand coming up to rub at his forehead. “Bigby…”

The wolf reached out, catching Blue’s hand. He gave it a squeeze. “I don’t like being worried, Blue.”

“Biggs…” Blue brought Bigby's hand to his lips, resting it there. His pretty eyes stared up at him earnestly, lovingly, yet still with that distance. “I…”

The blond shook his head, rising on his knees before wiggling his pajama bottoms and boxers down past his hips. Bigby watched, eyebrow raised, as Blue exposed himself. His mate was uncomfortable, lip still caught between his teeth, as he reached out and guided Bigby’s fingers between his thighs. Bigby has no idea where this was going – there’s no lust or arousal in the air – but he let Blue guide his fingers up past the tender weight of his balls to his hole.

Moisture met him.

It’s thick and viscous, a clear slick that dripped from the puffy and inflamed rim of Blue’s hole, gleaming on his fingertips as examined them in the low light of the living room. Bigby has seen it before. The implications make his cock go from limp to hard and throbbing in the span of a breath.

“What.”

It’s not even a proper question, just a sound that’s barely human sounding past his semi-transformed vocal cords, and Blue colored even more, squirming against the weight of Bigby’s fingers. 

“It’s – I…” Blue squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassment plain across his face. “The mating bite – Dr. Swineheart thinks you fixed something in me.”

“You showed Swineheart this?” Bigby snarled, the hand gripping Blue’s hip tightening to the point of pain.

“I had to!” Blue snapped, eyes flashing open to glare at him. “I was having all these cramps and blood…and _leaking!_ That’s not normal Bigby!” The blond shook his head, rubbing harshly at his face. “My mother and I – and Dr. Swineheart once I had him look me over – we thought I was infertile. That happens a lot with mixed breeds. But since the bite…he thinks –”

It was February.

The middle of the wolf breeding season. Blue’s scent had yet to make the shift to the sweetened, all-consuming one that would drive Bigby off all thought and sense, but what was happening was unmistakable to the wolf. It also explained how attached he’d been to Blue recently; his body knew what was coming even if he hadn’t.

“You’re in heat.” The words sounded as if they’d been torn from his throat. Bigby didn’t think his voice could ever sound that low, that ragged. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to,” Blue said quickly, sitting up to loop his hands across Bigby’s neck again, hiding his face in his shoulder. Bigby’s hands instinctively shifted their grip, supporting the lithe frame. “I meant to. It was just so much to take in. And,” his mate looked away, unsure, “Bigby, you thought I was a Beta male. You don’t want children. I was scared.”

“Who says I don’t want kids?” Bigby demanded, cock so hard it was painful in the compact constraints of his jeans. He was taken with the idea of Blue pregnant, full to the point of bursting with Bigby’s pup, and suddenly Bigby wanted nothing more.

“I’ve never heard you say anything nice about kids,” Blue muttered into the skin of his neck, “even TJ – like the nicest, most well-behaved kid ever annoys you.”

 “Blue,” he pried his mate’s face free, forcing Blue to look at him. “I’m not the best with kids, I'm not good at gentle like they need. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like them. You’re my mate, Blue. I was – and am – happy with anything you could give me. I didn’t care that pups weren’t in the cards because you were more than enough for me. But now…”

“But now?” Blue echoed, his face so vulnerable it made Bigby’s chest ache.

“Now – well, the situation’s changed, hasn’t it? Do you want kids, Blue?”

The blond nodded, blinking against glossy eyes. “I never thought that I’d get this Bigby. I never thought I’d have a family with anyone, much less be able to carry. I…I want it so badly and I’ve been so scared you wouldn’t feel the same way. Because once my heat starts…unless you can remember to use a condom or pull out, well. Dr. Swineheart said it the chances of impregnation is ninety-nine percentile."

“We’ll need a bigger place,” Bigby mused, smirking at the wonder and joy that blossomed on his mate’s face, “and I better order us a hell of a lot of take out. We’re not stocked for a heat.”

Blue let out a sobbing laugh of relief, hugging Bigby as he clung tightly.

* * *

In truth, Bigby didn’t remember much of Blue’s heat once it finally hit in full. Blue’s scent was overwhelming, robbing him of even the most basic of thought processes, and it was a miracle that they kept each other fed and hydrated at all. The aftermath left the apartment a wreck and absolutely inundated with their mixed scents.

Though they had to wait a few weeks for the pregnancy test to be viable, both seemed to already know that Blue was carrying. His scent had shifted, grown more stable and content, and Bigby swelled with pride every time he caught it. Blue wasn’t the only one who had thought that he’d never have this.

After the heat had passed, the two had talked for long hours in bed, their bruised yet sated bodies mending under each other’s touches and hot mouths, and it was almost like they were back in the honeymoon stage of their matehood; rocketed back to those first few months after they’d mated when nothing could go wrong.

They’d started making plans to move up to Blue’s apartment; the two bedroom was much larger than Bigby’s place and they’d need the space desperately soon enough. All babies needed their own space, but this was doubly so with wolf pups. Though they’d have to run it by Flycatcher and Pinocchio, Blue seemed convinced they wouldn’t object. The two Fables had shared a room when Blue had lived there and Bigby’s apartment was more than big enough for them.

Telling the rest of the community wouldn’t go over as easy and both decided that with the exception of a select few, they’d wait until Blue was showing to announce the news. Bigby still wasn’t the most popular wolf and most Fables still believed he’d somehow tricked Blue into their relationship. That he’d gotten him up the duff was going to cause all kinds of problems.

When the first month had passed (and the scent of pizza sent Blue sprinting to the bathroom to puke up his lunch) they’d gone to Swineheart to get the test done. Neither were surprised by the news. As Blue had predicted, his friends were just as ecstatic about the pregnancy as they were – both aware of Blue’s want to have a family and his long term infertility – and had agreed to the switch immediately, going so far as to move apartments the very day they told them.

The lease was still in Bigby’s name so the two could get the (minorly) discounted rent that Bigby got as sheriff and with Blue’s nearly nonexistent rent the wolf could afford to keep paying for his apartment if the two needed him to. Flycatcher was still working as a janitor at the Woodlands, but it was much harder for the child-like Pinocchio to get a job.

By the time they were ending the first trimester, the pair had completely moved into Blue’s apartment and settled quite contently. Only a handful of people knew about Blue’s pregnancy (which, if Bigby only could, would have been how it remained throughout the entirety of it) and at Bigby’s behest the blond had cut his shifts at the coffee house almost to nothing. It would be rough living for a while – baby shit was expensive, the damn thieves – but it made the wolf calmer to know his mate was in the safety of his office or the apartment while he was out and about town on a job.

Blue’s stomach had become an obsession for Bigby, the wolf hardly able to keep his hands off it, and the skinny blond began to show early on with so little fat packed on his slim frame to begin with. Blue ate constantly, and watching his pregnant mate eat the food he’d bought made Bigby’s ego swell to an unconscionable size.

It was the same tonight, Bigby’s hands cradling the small but growing swell as Blue sat in his lap, shoving mint chocolate chip ice cream in his mouth as he watched the newest episode of _Stalkthing_ on TV. Bigby despised the show and normally he made Blue change it when they were together, but the wolf found he couldn’t deny his mate anything nowadays, not with the scent of pregnancy and pup so heavily entangled around Blue.

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with the name Luke.”

“We’re not naming my pup after some juvenile Jedi-wannabe.” Bigby said firmly, his hands rubbing small but consistent circles against Blue’s stomach.

“Luke isn’t a Jedi wannabe, he _is_ a Jedi.”

“Not a very good one then. How the hell do you not realize your sister is your sister or your dad’s Darth Vader?” Bigby said with a snort, pressing an open mouth kiss against the mating bite, licking at the scarred skin. Blue shivered in his grasp, hips jolting back against his own in interest. Blue’s sex drive had been insane lately, not that Bigby wasn’t up to the task of keeping his small mate satisfied.

“Fine. No Luke. Do I really need to point out that you haven’t suggested one name so far?” Blue said with a grumble even as his hips began to grind down harder, breath coming in soft little pants, “why does this entire thing have to rest on me?”

Bigby’s hands slid down into Blue’s pants, squeezing the plumping dick as he bit down hard. Blue let out a moan, legs spreading to give him better access and – the phone on the small table next to them rang. Bigby was set to ignore it, mouth still worrying his mate’s neck as the scent of arousal grew in the air, but Blue had other plans. Rolling his eyes, the blond plucked the phone from its cradle.

“Bigby Wolf’s residence.” Blue answered. He hummed a few times, head cocking to the side. “Sure thing, Ms. Snow, I’ll send him down.”

Bigby let out a growl of annoyance, grip tightening on the blond. “She can wait.”

Blue gave him a small smile, shaking his head as he leaned back to press a kiss to Bigby’s lips. “Stop that.”

“Blue–”

“Go do your job, dork.”

It was useless to pursue the issue; Blue took duty very seriously, and there’d be no chance of sex now. Bigby stood abruptly, rolling Blue off his lap and onto the couch as he reached for his tie and jacket. “Fine, but if it’s something stupid I’m coming back up to finish what we’ve started.”

 “Mm,” Blue hummed, gasping as he palmed himself through his bottoms before lettings his fingers drift further down to play with his covered hole, “you’re assuming I won’t have handled this before you get back.”

Everything inside Bigby was screaming to stay, watching dumbly as his mate began to masturbate, but Snow wouldn’t have called him this late at night unless she had a good reason. He leaned down, resting his weight on the back of the sofa as he took his mate’s lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

When he finally broke away, Blue’s face was flushed and his lips shiny and swollen. “Lock the door behind me.”

Blue snorted but nodded, socked feet padding quietly behind Bigby as he followed him to the door. He took another kiss before steeping out, waiting in the hall until he heard the obedient click of the locks, and headed towards the elevator, intent on getting whatever business needed to be done as soon as possible.

Snow was waiting for him in her pajamas, a cute fleece thing that had printed snowflakes on it. It clung to her body, highlighting her curves and thin frame. Bigby took it all in one sweep, eyebrow rising as Snow flushed and yanked her robe closed, hiding her form from his gaze. “Sheriff Wolf.”

The use of his title - almost always used by Snow to regain a sense of authority by reminding him of his place in their little hierarchy (which was below her) – made Bigby’s eyebrows rise. The stern woman had been one of the first to learn about his and Blue’s relationship (which had actually been an accident and a firm reminder that knocking is very important) and his interest in Snow had been regulated to one of professionalism – and perhaps one day friendship.

The strange thing was that now, with Bigby’s infatuation removed, the wolf had begun to notice subtle ticks and odd behaviors. Things that seemed to point to the idea that perhaps Bigby’s attractions hadn’t been entirely one sided. Snow had been beyond shocked when she’d learned of Blue’s pregnancy and the emotion had only grown when she’d seen how enthusiastically Bigby had taken to it. It seemed the sight of Bigby – the excited and doting, protective father – managed to do what he’d failed to in hundreds of years; attract Snow White’s interest.

Blue could never know.

Or perhaps he already knew that Snow had some sort of attraction to Bigby, and that was why their first year together had been such a struggle. Regardless, Bigby was mated now and it mattered very little. Even if he wanted to, Bigby couldn’t betray his chosen mate like that.

“Ms. White,” Bigby greeted back, shoving his hands into his jean jacket. “Wanna tell me what's so important you had to tear me away from my mate at eleven at night?”

Snow’s brows furrowed, jaw twitching before she leaned back against her desk, arms crossing. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but this information is considered delicate and time-relevant. And it involves Blue.”

Bigby went still, eyes sharp as the entirety of his focus on Snow for the first time since he’d left the apartment. Seeing this, Snow sighed and moved around her desk, hands resting on a folder there. Blue’s citizenship file to be precise.

“Your romantic involvement with Blue makes this a complicated moral issue. A citizen’s file contains very sensitive and pertinent information about them, information that I would never dream to release to a significant other with written and verbal consent.” Bigby nodded slowly, eyes narrowing at where this could be going. Snow sighed. “However, your position as town sheriff – our one and only militant office – I am forced to breach confidence and share this information.”

She opened the file, sliding it across the desk. Bigby stepped forward, reading over the file despite the fact that he’d memorized it once before, at this very desk no less.

“Three days ago, the Alpha supply team returned to the Last Gate to relieve Delta team and found them slaughtered by some sort of animal Fable and the gate showing signs of activity. Less than twenty-four hours ago one of our mounted dog scouts sighted something very disturbing in the northern Farm preserve. It nearly cost Rommy his life, it did cost Carolyn hers. She was a fine dog.” Snow crossed her arms, uncomfortable as always with any display of emotion. She pulled a drawer open, eyeing the paper she pulled out before holding it out for him to take. “He drew what he saw; Rommy was always a very talented squirrel.”

Bigby took the ragged piece of paper and went completely stiff. It was artfully done, a black and white image of two wolves – one a dark black, the other a bright white – each with vicious, snarling grins on their faces, poised mid leap.

“The symbols on their forehead seem to denote that they’re Sköll and Hati H – Bigby!”

Bigby barely heard her as he sprinted from the office, bypassing the elevator and taking the stairs four at time. He knew he was being absurd; he’d left Blue less than fifteen minutes before. But Bigby was driven by a powerful need to know his mate was safe, locked inside their den and far from the reach of his uncles.

Blue had never really spoken of them. He let it slip once that he’d met them once when he was very, very young, not long after his village had been destroyed. They’d come for Blue’s mother. He broke the lock, slamming the door behind him as he burst into the apartment and started Blue so badly he dropped the kettle in his hands, yelping loudly as the hot water splashed across his sleep pants.

The sound was too much in his current state.

Bigby swept him into his arms, pulling him out of the wet spot as he yanked the loose and steaming cotton pants off Blue’s frame. Blue let out a squawk of surprise, hands flaying about before latching onto Bigby’s shoulders nail-deep.

“What the hell?” He sputtered, struggling to free himself from Bigby’s iron-like grasp. “Jesus, where’s the fire?” 

Bigby let out a low, violent snarl and Blue instantly went still and limp in his grasp, head rolling back and to the side to expose his throat. He swept through the tiny kitchen, kicking the bedroom door shut with his heel before crowding Blue on his bed. The blond was still pliant, unmoving as Bigby tore the sweater off and scented the tan skin, mouthing at it as his hands ran frantically over it, looking for any injury.

He paused just below Blue’s middle, nose burrowing in the soft, warm spot above the curls of his public hair, where Blue’s stretched skin was the hardest. He took one deep breath, than another, and another three, drinking in Blue’s pregnancy scent. It’s sweeter and saltier somehow, impossibly more appealing, and he filled his lungs until they were almost bursting with it. Strong hands ran through his hair, gripping the strands gently until Bigby allowed his head to be lifted a quarter of an inch, eye contact to be made.

Blue looked a mixed between terrified and aroused, blue eyes bright, and when he spoke his voice is low and hoarse. “Biggs?”

“You’re quitting your job,” Bigby announced, voice still a ragged sound, “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“What? Why? Bigby, what’s going on?”

Bigby pulled himself up, resting his elbows on either side of Blue’s head, hovering over his mate’s worried form. “…one of our scouts spotted your uncles on the Farm.”

Blue paled so rapidly it was startling, his voice a waspy whisper. “What?”

Suddenly he was moving, scrambling out from underneath Bigby’s form and rocketing towards the tiny closet to pull out a dufflebag. He began pulling draws open, grabbing clothing seemingly at random and stuffing them into bag. “We have to leave, now. Right now, tonight.” Bigby stood, watching his hysterical mate. Oddly the sight of it calmed his own reaction. “Can you drive in the storm? Bigby? Why the hell aren’t you moving, are you listening? I said we have to go. Bigby–”

He stilled Blue’s frantic packing physically, pulling the blond into his arms. Blue struggled, fighting the hold until Bigby tightened it, pinning his arms against his chest. “Blue. Where are we going to go?”

In truth, it was also his first instinct to hide them away, but both the Farm and the great expanse of Canada had been compromised, and Bigby didn’t know the south or west of the continent like he did the north and north-east.

“You don’t understand,” Blue gasped, his hands gripping his shirt-front tightly, “they _took_ my mother, even though her bloodline was so deluded. They took her to be a broodmare; they’re dying out, there’s not enough breeders and they just _took her._ They would have taken me too but I was hiding and too young and god, they must have heard somehow about – I don’t want to go to the Norse lands, Bigby –”

“Blue!” Bigby snarled, shaking his mate into silence. “No one’s going to take you, I won’t let them.”

“You won’t be able to stop them, Biggs! They’re the sons of _Fenrir_ the sun-eater!"

“And I’m the Big Bad Wolf,” Bigby interrupted again, cupping his frightened mate’s face, “and you’re Boy Blue, hero and last survivor of the Keep at World’s End. You’re not going anywhere.” He pulled his mate into a crushing embrace, “it won't happen. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, the start of actual plot.


	9. A Wolf's Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He bent down, picking up a broken and sharp edge of broken crib, the wood covered in blood, and brought it up to his nose. Wolf blood; not Blue’s. He felt an aggressive swell of pride – despite everything, even pregnant and over powered, his mate had managed to wound one of the fuckers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed, just what I needed to get the plot back in swing.

**July 18 th, 1988**

Bigby woke alone. Grunting, he slid out of the bed, groaning at the heat in the apartment. They had a AC unit, one in both of the bedrooms and in the living area, but they were those cheap wall mounted ones and did very little to fight the heat of New York. He was unsurprised to find his mate standing in front of the AC unit in the nursery, fanning himself with a _Parents!_ magazine.

“Don’t you dare touch me, Bigby Wolf,” Blue warned, eyeing him darkly, “I’m already hot enough.”

“Yeah you are.” Bigby gibed cheerfully, ignoring his mate to reach out and drag his fingers over the huge swell of Blue’s stomach. Blue looked ridiculous, leaning far back to keep his new center of balance, gravid stomach extended far over his feet. He was shirtless and his boxers – barely hanging onto his hips – were stained dark with sweat.

His mate swatted his fingers away with the magazine, growling under his breath. “Stop that, they just went to sleep. If you wake them up so they can have another round at my bladder or ribs I’m going to kick your ass.”

Wolf litters were usually multiples; Bigby himself had been one of six, so the fact that Blue was having four wasn’t a huge surprise to anyone. In fact, it was on the smaller size for a litter, with the average being between five and seven. And while Blue was just as ecstatic about their coming pups as Bigby was, being pregnant in the summer was difficult enough without being as large as he was. At six months, Blue was easily the size of someone much further along.

When they’d found out how many they were having, both had looked into getting a larger apartment. But with what they made – there was nowhere outside the Woodlands that they could afford. So they’d had to get creative with the nursery. Four cribs were crammed into the small space, two on each side, with a large dresser with a changing table insert atop it, and the even tinier closet was crammed with another dresser and filled to the brim with baby clothes.

Blue had managed to ply Blufkin with several aged ports into decorating the walls, the surprisingly skilled monkey painting a forest scene that looked so much like the ones back home that sometimes it made Bigby’s heart hurt. It also made the small space look bigger, and Bigby and Flycatcher had pained the ceiling a deep blue, doting it with the stars and constellations of their old world.

Their pups may grow up in the Mundie world, but both Blue and Bigby wanted them to know something about where they came from. It took almost every inch of saving either one of them had, but they’d managed to get everything they needed, and were frantically saving up again so that Blue wouldn’t have to work for the first few years after the pups came.

He ignored Blue’s grumbling as he slid up against his mate’s sticky back, lathing affection licks to their bonding bite, and after a moment Blue went limp against him, trusting Bigby to hold his weight. The sight of such trust – of their children, growing so contently in Blue’s womb – made something primal and utterly gleeful swell in the wolf. He spread his hands over the tight skin of Blue’s stomach, mouth still worrying the scarred bite as he blindly reached for the tub of lotion he knew was resting on the changing station. He worked it open, coating his hands with the thick goo before rubbing them over the bulging skin.

The sound Blue made was practically pornographic and Bigby grinned against his skin, increasing his pressure every so slightly, loving the way it made the blond just melt against him. As the due date grew closer, Bigby found his protectiveness multipling; it was a real strain to be away from Blue for any length of time now.

It would have been hard to leave Blue like this normally, but with the threat of his uncles looming it was nearly impossible, and each day that Bigby had to leave the apartment building to do his job was physically painful for him. It was just as painful for the crooks, who had quickly learned that Bigby’s fuse was shorter then ever and even the lightest of offenses were met harshly. Snow White wasn’t pleased with heavy-handedness, but she couldn’t deny Bigby his results; crime had dipped harshly during Blue’s pregnancy.

Neither one of his uncles had been spotted since their initial arrival and while some may have seen the lack of their presence as a sign to relax, it did the opposite to Bigby. He was more jumpy then ever and each month that passed in silence filled him with more and more anxiety. What were they waiting for? What were they planning? They were a threat to Bigby and his family, one he couldn’t tolerate, but no one seemed to be able to find them.

Blue let out a moan, head lulling against Bigby’s shoulder and the sound broke through his dark thoughts. The wolf’s lips twisted into a fierce grin, one that was practically all teeth, before sliding his hand underneath the massive stomach and the band of his boxers. Blue’s cock was unsurprisingly hard – Blue’s appetite was still hard to sate, though it was nowhere like it had been at the beginning of the pregnancy, and wrapped his slick hand around the hard member.

He kept his grip firm but loose, making sure to rub Blue’s head with every stroke, keeping the pressure just like the blond liked it. The wolf ground his hard cock into the crease of Blue’s ass, grinding hard in a small, narrow circle before sliding his dick through the slit of his boxers. He made sure to rub the swollen tip against his mate’s bare back, letting him feel how turned on he was by this, by the sight of his Omega fat and heavy with his pups to discomfort.

Blue squirmed, hands flying back to grip Bigby’s hips tightly. “Gods, I’m going to come already.”

“Then come,” Bigby growled out against his neck, increasing his pace of his hand as he slid his cock even faster against Blue, “I’m not gonna hold back – gonna cover you with my come until no one will ever doubt you belong to me. You and my pups. You’re _mine.”_

_“Biggs.”_

“That’s it, baby, just let go.” Bigby cooed, hand flying up to cup Blue’s head and catch his spend moments before he came with a sharp cry. The Alpha wolf followed him over the edge mere moments later, grunting as his come painted Blue’s upper back. His mate practically collapsed against him, Bigby’s hands flying down to keep him up by his waist, Blue’s chest heaving.

“Oh fuck. Oh _fuck,_ we woke them up, damn’t.” Bigby chuckled, keeping one hand on Blue’s hips for support while the other traced over the swell, grinning at the tiny kicks and hits that met him. “Stops looking so happy, you ass. You don’t have to deal with four wolf pups tearing your insides up. I’m never going to sleep now. And – ugh, I’m even hotter now.”

“Come on,” the taller man said, pulling Blue behind by the hand, “we’ll go take a dip in the pool, that’ll help cool you down.”

“What – King Cole’s pool? It’s like three in the morning. And it’s locked.” Blue sputtered, digging his heels in at the front door, “Biggs, stop! I don’t even have swim shorts on!”

“Boxers, swim shorts. It’s all the same in the end, right? And Cole owes me – like a shit ton.” Bigby said, ignoring Blue’s blustering as he swung the youth up into his arms, ducking out of the way of an errant punch. “He won’t mind if we take a dip, we won’t even wake him up if we’re quiet enough.”

“Damn’t Bigby, this isn’t decent and – oh fuck it, fine.”

“You’ve gotten such a sailor’s mouth.”

“Oh, _fuck you.”_

“Seriously, you know you can’t curse like that around the kids, right?”

“I swear to god, of all the people to lecture _me_ about –”

“Relax, princess. I’m only kidding.”

Cole’s pool was deserted, the pent house completely dark as Bigby stepped out of the access door and onto the patio properly. He set Blue down a few feet from the side, just long enough to shed his shirt, before joining the his mate in the shallows.

“Alright,” Blue admitted with a sigh, sitting on the steps until the water rested up around his neck, “this was a good idea.” He leaned back, resting his arms against a higher step, sinking the back of his head into the water. “We really need to think about getting one of these.”

“I’ll add that to the list of ‘probably is never gonna happen,’ right next to ‘buy that nice cottage in the Hamptons.” Bigby promised with a snort, disappearing underneath the water just long enough to get soaked before swimming over to his mate, floating easily just in front of him. Another one of the perks of being half-wind elemental; Bigby was practically buoyant.

“Do you think this what they feel like in there?” Blue mused, hands rubbing over his stomach in gentle strokes. “Floating, I mean. It has to be cramped in there, with all four of them growing. I know Dr. Swineheart said that they’ll be born a month early – maybe even earlier – since they’re multiples, and I want to see them so badly, but isn’t it...I dunno. I guess I want them to stay in there for as long as they need. Being born early…”

“They’ll be fine.” Bigby promised, kneeling in the water so he could press his hands atop Blue’s. “You forget they’re mostly wolf. We’re strong creatures.”

Blue licked his lips, eyes nervous. “What if they don’t look like us?”

“Blue –”

“No, Biggs. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but the chances that at least one of them is going to come out looking more wolf than human is stupidly high. It’ll be years before they can control their transitions and we can’t afford one glamour, much less four.” Blue leaned forward, resting his head against the older man’s shoulder as he stared down at his stomach, hands resting against Bigby’s hairy forearms. “If we get sent to the Farm…”

Blue didn’t finish, he didn’t need to. Bigby wasn’t allowed on the Farm, the animal Fables had long memories and they were still far too afraid of the Big Bad Wolf despite everything he’d done in the years following it.

Bigby let out an annoyed growl, pushing back into the pool and dragging Blue with him, the pregnant man floating lightly in his arms. “If it comes to that – we’ll find somewhere to go. I’m not going to let them take you or my kids away from me.”

“But my uncles –”

“I told you I’d protect you and I meant it.” The wolf snarled and instantly regretted the move when Blue winced, eyes dropping to the side submissively. He let them drift further into the deep end, resting his lips against Blue’s blond locks. “You and the pups, you’re...I’m not going to let them separate us. I’ll find a way.”

Not for the first time Bigby wished they back in the Homeland, so that Bigby could take them back to his forest, squirrel Blue away to one of his many dens and keep him safe until the pups came. There were so many dangers here, from Mundies, from Blue’s uncles, even from other Fables.

Bigby hated it.

Hated how helpless it made him feel, a feeling he never handled well. He pulled Blue closer, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “Just, trust me, okay?”

“…I just had a thought.” Blue said slowly after a moment, “we never wiped your come off me before we got in the pool.”

Bigby laughed so loud the lights in Cole’s bedroom flicked on.

* * *

It had been a shit day, but Bigby had stopped at a baby boutique on the way home and had bought some cute outfits for the kids. They were kind of expensive, but when Bigby had seen them he couldn’t resist. He’d just solved a domestic revolving around the owner of the shop’s brother and she’d happily given him a hell of a discount. The four were identical except in color and each had the screen of a howling wolf on it, with the words _Little Wolf,_ printed on it in cursive. They came with matching caps and little mittens to protect the pups from scratching their faces.

Seriously, how could Bigby resist that?

He was fingering the soft material, a small grin as he turned the corner towards the apartment. The scent of wolves froze him in his tracks, the rompers falling from his hands. A split second later and Bigby was sprinting hard down the street, past the busted doors the Woodlands, past Grimble’s unmoving form and up the stairway.

He yanked the door to their floor open so hard it yanked it off its hinges, flying into the hallway hard enough that he slammed into the wall, pushing off it before heading towards his apartment. Snow White was standing just before the door, pale as her namesake save for her face, which was blotchy and red. When she caught sight of Bigby her expression crumpled.

“Bigby –”

“No.” Bigby snarled, rushing past the woman and into his apartment. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Flycatcher was resting on the floor, his insides practically outside as Swineheart worked frantically to sow him back up, and Pinocchio was in equally rough shape, both eyes swollen shut and jaw hanging loose and dislocated. _“No.”_

“Bigby –” Snow repeated from the door but Bigby ignored her, freezing in the doorway of the nursery. It had the worst of the damage, a crib was utterly destroyed while two others were on their sides. The wolf took a hesitant step inside, something inside him disturbed beyond words to see the den they created for their pups so destroyed.

He bent down, picking up a broken and sharp edge of the broken crib, the wood was covered in blood, and brought it up to his nose. Wolf blood; not Blue’s. He felt an aggressive swell of pride – despite everything, even pregnant and over powered, his mate had managed to wound one of the fuckers.

“…Bigby, please. Just – say something.” Snow begged quietly from the doorway. Bigby shook his head, physically pushing the woman out of the way.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Snow?” He ground out, the shift trembling just on the edge of his thoughts. “That I’m about to lose it? That I’m not in control?” He turned on her, eyes bright and red, “well fucking _fine._ I’m about to lose it – because someone came into my home and took my pregnant mate. Excuse me if I’m not the pillar of _fucking control right now!”_

The end was practically a howl, the wolf in him at its absolute limit. Snow shook, physically flinching back from him, but what the hell did he expect? Bigby was no saint and this – this was enough to push anyone to the edge. Why was he supposed to be calm? Why was he supposed to be rational? Just because he was the Big Bad Wolf? Well fuck that, someone had taken Blue – had taken his pups! – and Bigby would see them _eviscerated_ for it.

“Sheriff,” a weak voice called out and Bigby turned, expression softening at the sight of Flycatcher, a hand weakly raised towards him before Swineheart pushed it back down with a harsh rebuff, “Sheriff, I – we – tried. But they were – they were just so strong, even in their human forms.”

“Quiet, Fly.” Bigby hushed, crouching down next to the weak man. Flycatcher and Pinocchio were perhaps the only people who loved Blue as much as he did, and even in his enraged state, Bigby could see how much that had cost them. They were Blue’s pack and somewhere along the way they’d become Bigby’s, and he swore he’d repay each wound on the gentle man and cunning boy’s broken bodies tenfold. “You did what you could, I know that. Can you remember what they looked like?”

“T-Tall,” Flycatcher managed, coughing harshly, “white – your skin tone, tanned. One had black hair, the other was r-really…r-really blond. They were so strong, Sheriff, Blue fought them so hard, but…we couldn’t…they jus-just _took_ him.” There were tears now, though Bigby knew they weren’t from pain. “You gotta get him back, Bigby, p-promise us that you’ll, that you’ll –”

“Hush,” he commanded, voice hard, but he gentled the impact by reaching out and resting his hand against Flycatcher’s sweaty brow. “I’ll get him back. Just get better, Flycatcher. Blue’s gonna be pissed if he comes back and see’s you and junior –” There was a weak, slurred _“fush you”_  from Pinocchio behind him. “ – like this.”

“Bigby, you can’t possibly think you can go after them.”

“Like fuck I’m not, Snow.” He pulled the badge from his wallet, throwing on the floor. “I’m taking a leave of absence, or I quit. Whichever one you like better. But I’m going to the Last Gate and I’m getting my mate back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be intense - and will feature Bigby's family. Hope you guys liked! Any request on what you'd like to see happen with this development? The end is solid, but the next few chapters are kind of fluid right now.


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